Perilous Haven
by Th3WorldOnFir3
Summary: I suppose wandering into a desert with no food or water is not the brightest idea in the world. But that's what got me here in this God-forsaken city, and in the middle of a damn war. Just my luck, huh? Yea, my life's just that damn epic.
1. Crash

**Chapter #1 - Crash**

Let me take this time to say this: MY LIFE SUCKS WORSE THAN YOU COULD POSSIBLY IMAGINE! Alright, I'm done. Now lets journey into the known-unknown and see why.

I hit the ground hard with a dull _thud._ I was exhausted and worn, and ached all over_._ Every muscle I tried to move screamed in protest, screamed in pain. I rolled over dazedly and blinked into the sky, darkened with clouds and whirlwinds that carried waves of sand, which nipped painfully at my skin and rubbed it raw. Thirst swelled in my throat, and I felt like I was in a huge, windy oven. _Ow... ow... ow... crap... ow. _I was enormously irritated.

I guess it was kind of stupid of me to go off into a desert with no food or water and expect to find civilization on the other side. And, hooray for me, my knowledge of basic survival was – wait for it – nothing. Nada. Oh, and guess what? Well, turns out there is no other side. So I'm just having a great time! Either that or I'd been going in circles for the last four and a half hours. I knew that the damn winds had sent me off course. Oh, and my sense of direction was as good as a compass with no needles. So, long story short, I was screwed. I had long since come to the realization that this little plan of mine was far from being a decent idea, but was downright stupid and would lead to starvation and eventually death, or loss of sanity at the very least.

For those of you who don't know me, heres a quick, basic story of my life. For all who don't care, you can go ahead and skip the next couple of paragraphs - but I strongly suggest you know who and what I am. My name is Noel; I'm fourteen. I _think. _I'm not a runaway, only an orphan teen _- with wings._ But I'm no angel, it's scientific matters. I'm a genetic hybrid. Only two days had passed since the major screw-up scene of my life, two days since the one person I ever came to love, died. This person, my 'aunt,' had rescued me from a place of beyond evil doing. This place, a.k.a. the School, employed the most ill-hearted people known - or not known, for they worked remotely - to man kind. These bastards generated and tormented mutated hybrid experiments like me with painful tests and crap like that.

_Anyways, _basically, I'm on my own. And as for now, I was alone in a huge desert storm with _no freaking food._ I do NOT want to wind up eating lizards, thank you very much. I know I sound like a wuss for saying that, but that's just me. Don't like it? Don't think I care.

I tasted blood in the back of my mouth, and when I coughed, it was like I'd tried to swallow a ball covered in sandpaper. Which was kind of the truth, considering how much sand I was inhaling by the minute. My eyes watered as I lay there. My filthy wings were crumpled uncomfortably beneath me, but I paid no mind to that. In a huge effort to lift my head, I looked around, hoping to see something through the sandstorm. Heck, anything would be nice at this point. But I saw nothing, of course. _Well, damn. _I thought drowsily, shutting my eyes tight against the wind and frowning bitterly. _Just too bad for me, huh… I get to live all of fourteen years – six of which I live in a dog crate. Just brilliant! Way to go, Noel. _

I suddenly found this funny, and surprised myself with a quiet chuckle. Wow. I'm strange, aren't I? Yep. The sound was carried off by the storm winds, but I found that I didn't feel quite so depressed. My eyes remained closed, cool tears from the wind streaming down the sides of my face, but I now had the slightest hint of a smile playing on my lips like a ghost trying to be seen. I don't know why I was just grinning there like an idiot. Maybe because I was really seeing of the overall story of my life; It sucked. Really, _really_ bad. And after all of it, I was loosing myself, allowing the desert sands to be my grave. I felt my muscles beginning to slowly relax, felt my mind drifting off into a strange, dark void. I noticed a low, hushed buzzing that was gnawing busily at my mind, and I wanted it to go away. It sounded distant, but it still annoyed me all the more. The hum was getting louder, into sort of a soft purr.

My thoughts were hazy, and now as I felt myself slipping away, that persistent noise droned on, growing louder each second and drowned out my very thoughts. It was pissing me off. And I kid you not, being pissed off takes a lot of energy. I mean, who wouldn't be pissed when some loud noise interrupts your totally dramatic death?

The little grin I had going on earlier was gone as the stupid sound grew louder. I now knew that the sound was not in my head, but from somewhere in the storm, growing nearer all the time.

Right then, the sound, which had eventually become a huge throaty roar, was abruptly cut off. After that, I heard rough voices shouting over the storm winds, which sent shockwaves of hope and relief through my body. And yet, right then, no matter how much hope rushed through my heart, I found that I couldn't open my eyes. I couldn't do anything. I felt something cold and smooth brush my face with a gentle firmness, along with a voice that might have been talking to me. It sounded fuzzy. The voice might have been through a device, or some sort of static-y loudspeaker. Either that or my ears were failing epically.

I tried desperately to respond, to move or make a sound, but my energy was gone. Clean out of me. And then my thudding heart seemed to give a shutter inside my ribcage. Then nothing. The wind disappeared, along with the nauseating temperature and the pain of my frying skin.

And of course, the hope-assuring touch on my face vanished too.


	2. My Own Little World

**Chapter #2 - My Own Little World**

"_Oohhh…_"

A faint moaning interrupted the peace of my little void of nothingness. I ignored it, passing it off as one of the numerous memories that were playing in my mind. Right now I felt weightless and carefree, as if all the bad thoughts in the world had gone away. Poof. Bye-bye.

But the moaning picked up again after a second.

"_Ahhhhh…_"

It was like the sound was pulling me back to reality, out of my world of serenity; I was beginning to regain my senses, though they were muffled and disoriented. A part of me didn't like that, I guess because my aching body had just come back to slap me in the face. I gladly accepted that slap in the face, because for what seemed like hours upon hours, my mind had been eerily numb and departed. At least it was something.

There was another moan. It sounded way more up-close and real now, and it took a second for me to realize that it was coming from yours truly. Go figure. The one thing I noticed that hadn't yet returned to me was my vision. That wasn't good, not at all. I _needed_ that as much as my other senses. I started to panic; maybe the sand had done damage to my eyes, beyond repair! Maybe I'd been blinded due to my idiocy of staring at the desert sun for too long! I wrenched a hand up to my face and – oh. Maybe I hadn't opened my eyes yet. I let my fingers drop away from my face, and after a brief struggle, I drowsily lifted my lids. The first things I saw were my dirty hands, latent and numb in my lap. My whole body was caked in dirt, blood, and God knows what else. I wriggled my fingers, and they all worked. I gave myself a quick pat down. Nothing seemed to be broken, but it sure as Hell felt like it. I was sitting stiffly, propped up against a cold steel wall. My wings were bound together uncomfortably at the bases with chains, and my shoulder blades protested sharply. I didn't bother with the chains; they were too tight to slip out of, and too thick to break. When I dropped my gaze, I saw a few crumpled white feathers scattered around me. _Phfft... I'm mooolting!  
_As if in habit – for I did this all the time – I pulled my scathed knees up to my chest. Everything was tinted crimson, from a red light overhead. A quick glance around told me I was in a tiny room with no windows. All walls but one were of steel. The other, the one across from me, was mostly a large metal door with a tiny barred window in the middle. I didn't like this. My body was sore beyond belief, I was confused and scared, and I really had to pee. Oh, how _fun_ this'll be! As my vision cleared and sharpened, I could just barely make out a pair of icy amber eyes peering through the glass and thick bars of the window in the door. They stared right back at me, unblinking, in a dark glare that sent an involuntary shiver down my spine. The intercom beside the door crackled and gave a shrill buzz that rang harshly in my ears. I gave a start.

"Hm. Look at this," scoffed a man's voice on the speaker. "You managed to recover after all." I frowned, slightly hurt. _Well that was a lovely hello. _I hadn't been prepared for such an uncouth greeting, nor did I want to talk to anyone in the first place. I was scared, and I wanted out. The Voice tried again. "My men found you several miles outside the city walls… you should be thankful."

I looked down at my lap guiltily, as if I were being scolded. Despite the discomfort of the chains, the probable need of medical attention, and my overall mood, I surprised myself by muttering a nearly inaudible, "Thank you, Mister." Who was this guy? I wanted to kick his ass. If I could; I just didn't have such strength nor did I have enough confidence. I lifted my gaze again to look at the eyes in the window, which now held a certain wicked twinkle of satisfaction.

"So you do speak," mused the Voice, more to himself than I. I wanted to ask where the hell I was, why I was in here, and why he couldn't just talk to me in person. But before I could say any more, the man moved away from the window and out of view. I blinked, expecting the door to open. Maybe I would see the owner of the Voice before I picked my butt up and got the Hell out of there. But alas, the door remained closed. Instead, the speaker buzzed once more, and I heard nothing further. I was left to myself, to loose my sanity over my own overactive imagination. Hooray – time to think. Questions swarmed around my head, and I tried to address them all with my current knowledge of the whole situation. Which was… just about nothing. Who was that man? And what did he want with me? Was I back in the School again? Had they captured me, back in the desert? How could they have possibly found me? But this looked nothing like the School, from what I remembered of eight years ago… unless they'd remodeled since I was there. Were they playing Dungeons and Dragons with me or something? I was in a cell, with only me, myself, and I. The cell was was dank, and smelled of horrid things I'd rather I didn't know of. Well, at least it was better than an animal crate. I even had my own bed – if you count a metal bench with a downright lumpy cushion as a bed. The next several hours were passed in silence, the only moving being me fidgeting constantly and shifting restlessly around the small room. The only interesting thing that happened – and believe me, I mean interesting as in sort of like when someone farts during an awkward moment – was when an aluminum tray piled with what I assumed was food slipped through a little flap in the door. I didn't dare go near it, for the possibility of it being drugged was too likely. But the wonderful smell of it filled the room within seconds, and had me clutching my empty stomach as I did my best to resist. I was getting little sleep, though I was exhausted; the fear of being back at the School kept me awake and alert. So, I guess Ill take a minute to explain myself, since you don't know who and what '_I_' is. First off, I'll have to start with this: I am an Avian-American. What's that, you say? Well I'm 97% human. The other two percent of my being is... well, bird. Remember those evil scientists at the School? Well, they grafted avian DNA into mine, and whoop-dee-doo, you have me here with a fourteen-foot wingspan of tawny speckles on white feathers. My name? Well, everyone always called me El or Ellie, but you probaly already know my real name is Noel. If anyone wants to know more, I have a biography.

_Anyways_...

It was only a few times when I would approach the door across the room and see what lay beyond the window. From there, I could see that my cell was one in a circle of identical cells, all bordering a huge, round chamber. In the center of all this was a single metal chair with leather straps and iron chains. Over that chair hovered a huge machine that looked awfully like a futuristic torture device, needles and all. And I'm not joking about the needles, by the way. There were long needles jutting out at the bottom of the machine, deliberately aimed downward toward the chair. Jeeze… It by itself was a scene enough to make me sick. And of course, I eventually saw it in action. At one point, while peering out of my cell, I saw a group of men in weird red armor from head to boot. There were four of them, each carrying huge guns that looked like no kind of guns I'd ever seen before. They were marching toward the chair in unison, in a square formation. As I pressed my face to the barred glass of the window for a better view, I saw a tall boy about my age being pushed along in the center of the four men. A sack was drawn over his head like a hood, and his hands were fastened in shackles behind his back. He was wearing tattered prison clothes and no shoes. I could tell he'd been here a while.

I watched as the armored men led him to the chair and fastened the heavy-duty restraints over his wrists, torso, and ankles. I blinked, slightly disturbed. What were they doing to this guy?

Two soldiers backed away from the chair, to a safe distance. The other two remained beside the torture chair for a second. One of them pulled the sack off of the boy's head, then hastily joined his retreating comrades, several yards away. I tore my gaze from the soldiers to take my first look at the boy's face. And, let me tell you, my eyes must have been as big as baseballs. His weary face was filthy, with various scratches and bruises that told of both recent and long ago injuries. His deep blue eyes held no emotion, only stubborn distain toward the soldiers. The boy's blond hair was long and matted, falling past his shoulders in uneven lengths. It may have been just filthiness, or hopefully my eyes being retards, but it seemed that his hair was tinted a strange greenish color towards the roots. Ah... ew. He also had a goatee. Goatees are weird, but even weirder in any shade of green. Yes. It ws green too. But that wasn't all; this is what caught my attention: his ears were _huge_. Not huge as in Dumbo, the flying elephant, I'm talking long and pointy. Like almost a foot long.

"Whoa," I murmured to myself. Major eye-twitch for me, there. But now that I looked at the men, I saw ears just like the boy's were visible under heavy armor plates. _SUPER WHOA_. I tried to ignore this little fact, to focus on what was happening, but I ended up staring at those strange ears. I mean, really, he looked like an elf. A really tall elf. Well, to be truthful, his overall appearance was kind of cool; it looked natural. Not for an average guy, I guess, but it just worked for him.

But, hey, who am I to judge? I have _wings_.

The remaining soldier approached a table. From what I could see, the whole surface of the table was covered in levers, knobs, and little lights that flickered vibrantly. I watched the man begin to hit buttons and twist dials and what not. As he did this, the torture machine began to move, the needles rotating and spinning at increasingly high speeds. I expected them to come down and shred through the boy, but instead, they seemed to be generating some sort of electricity. A glow of indigo shockwaves brightened the room, and purple fingers of lightning emitted from the tips of the needles and flashed everywhere like a bizarre electrical storm. The boy's contempt toward the soldiers had faded into a somewhat vague look of terror as soon as the machine cranked into motion. Though I couldn't hear it past the thick metal of the door, I knew he was about to scream. Right then, I couldn't take the sight of it anymore, and my knees buckled and gave way beneath me. I forced myself to avoid that memory as much as possible, shoving it into the back of my lonely little mind, and tried to keep my thoughts elsewhere. It was hard, seeing as the flashing purple light from the machine found its way through my window and flickered on the wall above me, like some obscene horror film. And what was worse was that I had the feeling that this happened every day. It all seemed routinely, the way they escorted him to the chair, how he didn't fight, like he'd given up on it a long time ago. I wanted to help him. But I was nothing at the moment. I was barely fed, and I hardly had enough strength to stand up. Before long, I was yearning for my iPod. I needed music, to crank it up to full blast and get those horrible images out of my head. So moments later, I was humming. At this point, I was lying drowsily on the cold bed, my eyes closed. For a second, I stopped humming and frowned, opening my eyes_. This really pathetic of me, _I thought resentfully. _I'm sitting here, doing nothing while this guy gets a little taste of Hell every day... This definitely isn't the School. But it might be much worse, of course. Yay. I mean, damn it. _The Voice and the eyes that came with it hadn't bothered me for a while now, and I so was rotting mentally as well, with no one to talk to and nothing to do except let starvation break down my body.

My ears rang with the loud silence that now hung heavily in the air of my cell. I couldn't stand this eerie quiet atomasphere that seemed to gnaw at my ears, and I knew I was on the edge of insanity. I pushed starvation, craziness, and pretty much every other worry to the back of my mind.

_Screw this... _

Subdued, I set aside my thoughts again and began humming again, and before I knew it, I'd hummed myself to sleep.

* * *

**Yea, it's kind of boring with all the sitting around that goes on.  
But I'm getting to it. Just you wait and see, It's building up.  
I hope I described Jak alright, with enough opinion and stuff.  
Well, plz leave a review, that's all I have to say. ;D**


	3. Strange

I've nothing to say but... you guessed it! READ AND REVIEW _PUH-LEASE._

**Disclaimer: **Eh. I own... myself.

* * *

**Chapter #3 - Strange**

"You've turned out to be an unusual guest here," crackled the Voice in the intercom.

I'd lost track of time, but it felt like I'd been there for days. I was getting awfully annoyed at this guy; all I really knew about him is that he had shaded brown eyes, almost auburn. They were guarded at all times, and I felt like I was being watched by an unsentimental android when he watched me.

I frowned, mumbling almost to myself, "I'm just a guest here in this lovely prison of yours, huh?" The Voice responded with only one unhumomorous laugh.

This was only the third encounter between us, the last time being his attempt to interrogate me. I was fairly uncooperative, I knew which was getting me nowhere. And yet he still tried with questions like What was your business outside the city walls? and Why have I never heard news of a freak with wings? I think may have heard him add to himself, And with such ridiculously short ears as those? Well, that's one more thing I knew about him: #3. Has long, pointy ears just like the green-haired boy and the guards in red armor. Okay, so far this place was eleven on my scale of one to ten for Freaking Weird.

I was on the cold bed, lying uncomfortably on my side. I wanted so much to get up and start screaming. I couldn't take this much longer. My own blue-hazel eyes locked gazes with the man's, trying to give away nothing but disregard; I could never admit to myself how terrified I was, let alone give him that pleasure.

After a moment of thought, the Voice responded in a chilling purr. "This prison is not mine. But you are."

I gave a start. "What the—"

But the man withdrew from sight, leaving me yet again having said so few words that yet get beneath my skin so easily. This guy sure had a real touching way with words. What a freaking jerk! I jumped up, almost foaming at the mouth. "Come back here, you heartless bastard!" I shrieked furiously. No reply. Crossing the room in all of two swift steps, I peered through the window desperately. A second later, I found myself forcefully banging my fists on the bars of the little window with all my strength, crying angrily. If you're wondering, then yes. I did sort of loose it… To tell the truth, it just felt good. I mean I only left the room twice a day to get up and pee. But even then I had to wear shackles and a freaking blindfold. When I was done screaming and punching the door, I sank to the floor, sobbing and whimpering softly. I had bloody knuckles, and the sides of my hands and fingers had deep cuts; probably from pieces of metal that broke off the bars, but the pain was only just beginning to process in my head. I curled up on the spot, leaning a shoulder against the door and cradling my bloody hands by my belly. I was like that for hours after that. I was sort of half asleep, yet somewhat awake, sort of aware of the numbing pain of my injured hands.

I managed to calm myself down by humming to myself, one that my Aunty had always used to hum before she died, and eventually began to sing. Sing, you ask? I know I don't sing, but hey. I was insanely miserable, what was I supposed to do? Besides – it made me feel less lonely, despite the incredibly depressing tune and all… couldn't help that either, I guess. Don't judge me, I know I'm a tad melodramatic, but that's just me. The comforting sound rang in my ears, sweet and quiet. It sounded all right, if you ignored the raspy, whispery… well, it was terrible. Shut up. But to me, it sounded like I wasn't so alone… I was mesmerized by my own voice, spellbound by every beautiful note. Even though half the notes were cracked in half by my hoarse crooning. I guess this was my main entertainment for the moment, but it sure as hell beat the solemn ring of silence that seamed to rake at my ears hours and hours. After a while, I looked up stiffly and rubbed my eyes, ignoring the pink scars on my hands. (Thank god for unnaturally fast healing.) I saw that ominous purple flickering on the walls again, pouring through the window eerily. Every day now, I would see it once and not look again, and I'd force myself back into the corner of my own mind, trying hard to block it out of my conscience.

But thanks to my recent spark of insanity, the bars on the window were bent and broken, and the glass behind them was shattered, yet somehow it was still intact. I noticed as I glanced up that there was a tiny missing shard at a couple points. My face twisted into a horrified grimace at the faint but strong sound that came through that.

Screams and shrieks from that poor boy tore at my eardrums and sent a shudder up and down my spine. I could also hear a droning buzz and a faint crackling that I flat out knew was the electrical current coming that flowed from the lightning rods from the machine. I gritted my teeth and cupped my hands over my ears, curled up tightly. But I could still hear the broken boy's howls of terror, and it was horrible to listen to. Right then, I cursed my abnormally sharp hearing. The daunting scene was vivid behind my eyes, and I was all too aware that this was happening within fifty feet of me. I felt terribly guilty when I realized that I was freaking out when I wasn't even the one in the chair. Nobody would ever, ever get me in that wicked chair. If anyone tried, oh, I swear… Just like the last four times, the ended after maybe five minutes or so. I didn't have to sneak a glance; I heard the whining of the machine as it shuddered to a halt. The boy, however, still gasped painfully and heavily through his teeth. I heard a mechanical voice. "Dark Eco injection cycle complete," it said with a rather feminine quality. "Bio readings: nominal and unchanged."

Wow, guys. Looks like I've just stumbled upon the strangest whitecoats in America. If I was even in America anymore. And what was this 'dark eco?' As much as I wanted to stand up and see was happening, I couldn't bring myself to move, though my eyes were wide as plates.

Somebody grunted, sounding irritably displeased. "Nothing!" This time it was a real voice. It was deep and gruff, and was unmistakably dripping with resentment. "I was informed that this one might be different." Each word was spat in a harsh accusation. I unraveled myself from my tight little ball of misery, listening intently. Something weird is happening…I would have definitely snuck a peek through the window, but something deep inside my mind told me otherwise. Hooray for instincts!

Then came another voice, more husky and young. "He's surprisingly resistant to your—" There the slightest pause, perhaps while the man rephrased his thought. "…_experiments_, Baron Praxis; I fear the Dark Warrior program has failed." I listened attentively. To tell you the truth, I was beginning to recognize it as _the_ Voice. It was probably just the absence of the feedback from the intercom that threw me off.

The first man hissed, and I imagined that it was directed toward the boy in the chair. "Argh! You should at least be dead with all the Dark Eco I've pumped into you!"

"What now?" I heard the Voice query. "Metal Head armies are pressing their attacks."

I half giggled at the title. Metal Head? Some kind of robot or something, I guess. Nice name. Huh… this place must be at war with these 'Metal Heads' then. This should get interesting…

The second man continued severely. "Without a new weapon, my men cannot hold them off forever."

It was quiet for a moment, then the older man spoke, sounding weary and exhausted. "I will not be remembered as the man who lost this city to those vile creatures." Aw, poor guy. His little torture experiment didn't work, and now he's sad… I rolled my eyes and listened as he continued. But the all the exhaust was gone, and only belligerent violence drove his voice. "Move forward with the final plan! And… finish of this 'thing' tonight."

"As you wish," answered the Voice in a wicked murmur. I heard the clank of heavy armored boots as one of the men dismissed himself and passed my cell toward the elevator at the end of the room. The airlock door shut audiably behind him.

"I'll be back later," sneered the Voice, and I could just imagine the boy being held by the collar of his ragged green prison shirt. I heard lighter footsteps, but this time coming toward my cell. I was still on the cold ground by the door, where he'd left me about an hour ago. So I quickly lay on my side and curled up again, looking cute and pathetic. My eyes closed, and with a bit of effort, my breath slowed to the normal rate. Within a second, I felt the cold stare of those auburn eyes raking over my body. There was no buzz from the intercom, so he was probably talking to himself when he said, "And you, dearest. I have to figure out what I'm going to go with you. Perhaps you could be of use to me…" I had no idea what he meant, but I wasn't sure I wanted to ask. Listening as the creep left the room, I tried unsuccessfully to relax.

Oh, God. I thought, stunned with fear. Not so much for me, but for the boy whose life would be of no more by tomorrow. I gotta get out of here…and with any luck, save the boy as well. And… there goes that plan. I was looking around, hopeless thoughts scattering my brain. Then my ears picked up an ever so faint noise, sort of like little claws on metal. I frowned, bemused. What in the name of…? I was about to search my cell for rats when I heard an entirely new voice. (Man, all the voices, right?) This one was small, like a child's.

"Ding-ding! Third floor…" It said playfully, the shrill sound echoing around the huge room. I could just barely hear it through the crack in the window, but I did. I straightened, taken off guard. I risked peering out of the broken window. The first thing was a furry little rodent, in a color of fiery orange, scampering up to the chair in which the boy silently rested. It carried a bag that was just about as big as the rodent itself. "Body chains; roach food; torture devices…" Said the fuzzball same obnoxious voice. Yes, I kid you not – it speaks! I stared, eyes wide, as it tossed the bag into the boy's lap, then heaved itself onto the chair. This just kept getting weirder and weirder…

It jumped onto the boy's chest, looking proud and arrogant. "Hey, buddy. Seen any heroes around here?" It seemed to get its first good look at the emaciated boy, because I saw sudden shock cross its furry face. "Whoa! What'd they do to _you_?"

I suddenly just felt tired. My half starved mind was playing tricks on me. Or maybe I really was back at the School, in just another cruel simulation test. I shook my head. The whitecoats must be enjoying this. Oh well. This was pretty damn interesting – why not play along?

The little orange rat thing looked slightly disappointed as he studied his friend's face. "Jack…?" Well, maybe it had more of a 'K' sound. Let me rewrite that.

"Jak…?" Whimpered the creature uncertainly. "It's me, Daxter!"

The boy lifted his head in a huge effort to look at the rodent, only to fall back, looking strained. The fuzzball put its paws on its hips in disapproval, looking like a teenage girl. "Well that was a fine hello," it huffed. The little animal began to pace up and down the Jak's torso, going off on a cute little rant. "I've been crawling around in this place risking my tail—" Daxter whipped around to grab hold of his own tail. (While at the same time, I might add, stepping down onto the kid's groin and making him flinch weakly. I just had to giggle at that…) "—literally, to save you. I've been looking for you for two years!" I watched 'Daxter' as he grabbed a pawfull of his friend's shirt collar, begging pitifully. "Say something!" He wailed dramatically. "Just this once!"

To my astonishment, the animal's plead seemed to get through to Jak; the boy's blue eyes flickered open, swirling with a rage that made me shiver. "I'm gonna kill Praxis," he snarled, and I was taken aback at how much hatred and revulsion his voice held. The orange rodent clasped his paws over Jak's mouth, shushing loudly before he could say any more. "Right now, we have to get outta here," it mumbled, scrutinizing one of the security locks that fastened one of Jak's wrists to the chair. I saw Jak panting, no – more like growling as his face twisted into an ugly grimace. A sharp pain suddenly sprang up at the back of my mind, but I ignored it. Daxter had a look of concentration on his face, while behind him, Jak was getting restless, his hands clenching into fists then opening, fingers like claws. His body arched upward as he struggled.

I thought I saw a violet spark flash to life in one of his hands, but then my mind seemed to explode. I gasped, cringing. It felt like my brains would be spattered on the walls, that's how bad it hurt. I crouched, holding my head between both hands. It went on for all of four or five seconds, during which I was wishing I were dead. But it stopped as abruptly as it'd started, leaving me gasping for breath and hot tears welling up in my eyes and threatening to spill over. The first thing I heard was Jak's rough voice; he sounded kind of woozy. "Daxter?" He asked, almost as I confused as I. I steadied myself and shook my head, clearing my vision. Jak was standing up now, all the restraints from the chair broken and scattered in pieces all over the floor. Daxter was staring at Jak with huge eyes. "What the heck was that!" He demanded of his friend, staring at him tentatively.

I blinked twice, slightly dazed myself. What had happened? Scratch that — what had happened to me? Daxter picked up the bag from the floor, brushing dust from his fur. "Sheesh. Remind me not to piss you off! Come on, Tall, Dark, and Gruesome." (I frowned, not sure what the fuzzball ment.) He held the bag up and said, "I, uh, brought you some new threads. Put 'em on." Jak took the bag, and I looked elsewhere reverently as he changed his attire. Just a habit. When I looked again, the filthy prison clothes were just a pile of murky green fabric on the floor. Jak was dressed in a blue long-sleeved tunic and white pants. His combat boots were heavy duty, and I kind of admired them. They would be nice to have, I thought hazily. He also had the weirdest holster arrangement: three leather straps all held together by a brass ring on his chest. Around back, they held a huge pouch in place for the actual gun, for easy access. Jeeze... My eyes lingered on the empty holster for a second, then continued to study his new fashion. He also wore a pair of goggles on his forehead just over his hairline. (Green… I can't get over that.) One lens was not a lens at all, only a nub that seemed to tell of a missing scope. And I say again, his overall look was… cool. Natural.

I watched as Daxter climbed onto Jak's shoulder. My eyes followed them as they headed toward an air vent. Then I came to my senses. I began pounding on the door of my cell. "Hey!" I called. "Over here! Please let me out!" Jak paused, pivoting his body to look around at the surrounding cells. "Help me!" I called again, full of sudden hope. Jak's icy blue eyes locked with mine, and he cautiously turned to approach my cell. Tears were now spilling down my cheeks, my only thoughts being: I'm outta here!

But, of course…

"Jak, what d'ya think you're _doing_?" Screeched the furry rodent on his shoulder. "We gotta get out before the K.G. find us!" Daxter looked at me and blinked warily. I had no words, only a pleading gaze that shone in my watery eyes. I could taste the salty tang of blood, probably from me biting down on my lip so hard. Jak looked at his friend suggestively, who then hissed adversely in his ear. "I bet she's one of Praxis' experiments_. _Probably dangerous…" Daxter finished rather fearfully.

_No, no, no!_ My lips moved, but I couldn't make any sounds. This couldn't be happening! I wasn't dangerous. I could never hurt anything! I looked at Jak desperately, who now frowned uncertainly. He was leaning away from the cell, about to leave. With a huge effort, I just barely managed a fleeting, "Please!" But he was already sprinting to the air vent. With one perfect roundhouse kick, the cover snapped off and fell to the floor with a metalic clang, and he hopped gracefully into the duct. With only one last glance at me, Jak vanished. Along with him, he took my last hope of escape.

_Damn it! _


	4. And Then There Were Two

**Chapter #4 - And Then There Were Two**

My legs gave in beneath me and I sank to the floor, dejected, confused, scared. I hurt, both mentally and physically. My body ached all over and I was just about starving – and I'll tell you, it's not pleasant when your stomach threatens to eat itself. The food had stopped coming when the first plate was taken out several hours after it was offered, flies and all. Right now I was really regretting that. I yearned for a nice, warm bowl of soup… Right then my stomach growled, and I snapped out of my humid, tropical fantasy doubling up in pain. I groaned pathetically and pulled myself onto the bed, shivering. If it weren't for the bindings on my wings, I would've pulled them around my body as a feathery blanket. But, of course it had to be dramatically unfair for me. Unfair, I say! So I just sang with what breath I had left, in unsuccessful attempt to convince myself that I wasn't alone in the world. And, well, this pretty much set the mood for the next hour or two, or at least until I fell asleep.

"I'm not dangerous!" I cried, watching the boy and his little creature turn their backs on me. Neither of them seemed to hear me. I stared after him, sobbing, as I clutched the mutilated bars with shaking pale hands. All of a sudden, my vision was blocked, and all I could see were a set of blazing auburn eyes that seemed to mock my very being. Then I heard the Voice, echoing as if it were coming from all around me. "You're mine!" It said, then erupted into psychotic laughter. I screamed, shutting my eyes tight. That made it better. The laugher was gone, the eyes as well. It was silent. Peaceful, even.

I opened my eyes again and found myself sitting upright in my bed, my heart fluttering. Sunlight filtered in through the huge window and chased the shadows of my latest nightmare away. It was bright, but it was also warm. Yay. I lifted a hand to shade my eyes, but then I realized something.

_Whaaaat? _

I didn't have a huge window in my room. I didn't have a queen-sized bed with a draping canopy either. I looked around uneasily, my heart picking up again. The bedroom was spacious and pleasant, royal even. The window was to the left of the big bed, covering almost a whole wall. On the far side of the bed was a big granite hearth, in which were lovely golden flames whose heat I could feel warming my bones from where I sat. Off to the side was a wooden chiffarobe, and beside that was a full sized mirror in a brass frame. The girl in the mirror caught my eye. She sat dazedly, wrapped up in pale gold sheets of silk. Her wings, no longer bound together, were orderly and unruffled. But what I noticed was that she was clean. Clean and not caked in dirt and dried blood. I looked at my hands, no longer filthy, no longer scarred. My caramel blonde hair fell around my face in neat, somewhat curly waves, and just barely touched my shoulders. I wore a spaghettie-strap white night gown that fit my body as if it were made for me. It even had slits in the back for my wings. Creepy. If I hadn't been confused and scared, I would've enjoyed this luxury. Unless I was dead… which I kind of hoped was true. Doubtful. First off, I'd been held as a prisoner for I don't know how many days, and now I was being catered to as a goddess. And second, somebody _bathed and dressed _me. Do you know how violated I felt when I thought back on that?

_So. Now how to get out…_ I asked myself inwardly, then looked at the window automatically. I could see that this room was very high up, and if I wasn't totally sane, I would've thought that the view was slowly moving. Nevertheless, I rejected the option as soon as it came to mind; a window as large as that was bound to be at least a few inches thick. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see two doors. I guessed one would lead to a closet or bathroom, and the other would be my escape. Yay… I slipped out of the bed, feeling the smooth wood panel floor under my feet. I almost lost my balance; walking almost felt new to me all over again from laying or sitting for so long. I leaned on the side of the bed for support, making my way around it and toward the doors. I stretched my wings to balance myself, and I eventually got it down. I tried the door to my left. Bathroom. Big bathroom, by the way. I bit my lip, turned the knob of the other door, and opened it just a crack. Peering through, I found myself looking down a long metallic corridor that branched off into other hallways. Draped all along the sides were red banners with what looked like a black skullish mask… thing. Huh. How inviting. I silently opened the door wider and started down the hall. I jumped like a spazz at every little sound, which mostly came from the tapestry murmuring gently on either side of me. I knew I wouldn't be so lucky as to leave the building unnoticed. And of course, here was why. Ahead of me, I heard two sets of metal-plated footsteps just about to turn the corner from one of the hallways. I ducked into the nearest corridor and pressed my back to the wall, holding my breath as I listened for them to pass. When they did, I relaxed, sighing quietly, and got set to take off again. But then I felt something hard jab me sharply between my shoulder blades. I lost my balance and fell forward, just as cold metal gauntlets seized my arms and dragged me back up. I looked up numbly at the two red soldiers who held me firmly. They were much bigger up close; I noticed when I looked up at one of them, seeing my reflection in the red scopes of his mask. One of them, the soldier to my right, addressed me through the speaker built into his mask. "We have orders to take in a meager little girl with uncanny features," he said gruffly, maybe even scornfully. He twisted my arm behind my back and I squeaked. "Aw, you meanie-face." _Huh, wow, Noel. Great comeback._

The soldier to my left looked at his partner and warned him, "She needs to be brought to the commander_ a__live, _Thirty-Four."

I yawned and put on my best nonchalant face, despite the painful pressure on my arms. "Yea. What he said, Thirty-Four."

"Shut up," ordered soldier Thirty-Four, and I gave in when he clutched my wings together in a tight, excruciating lock hold. They set off down the main corridor, going down toward the very end, where a huge metal door painted royal red bore a black skull mask that resembled the banners along the walls of the corridor. The big door opened as soon as we were within five feet of it. Beyond that door was what looked like a huge throne room, considering the chair conveniently placed at the top of a reasonably tall flight of stairs. The wall behind that was all glass, as was the ceiling. Towering stone pillars were lined up all along the side of the long room as well. I'd go into farther details, but I kinda had other things of my mind. Such as _Holy crow, I gotta get the Hell out of here. _The soldiers pushed me into the room, then left. I tried to turn around and run after them, but the door shut in my face. Ouch. I turned again, looking around. _Maybe I could get out through the glass ceiling,_ I thought, shading my eyes as I looked up. And then there were two.

"I wouldn't try," said a voice. I immediately distinguished it as _the_ Voice. The words still echoed around the huge throne room as I whipped around, feeling paranoid, as if I was about to be dragged back into prison. Filthy, wretched prison… The Voice continued. "The walls are reinforced with a foot of steal. And as for the glass, it's at least six inches thick. I wouldn't want to be scraping your splattered carcass from the glass, now would I?" I folded my arms. He was depicting me like a bug on a windshield. Ew. I didn't say anything, just waited. The Voice tried a different approach. "I had you transported here from the prison fortress, overnight. You were very tired, weren't you? We didn't even have to drug you." (Yay... Now I felt weak _and _naïve.) I still was silent as the Voice paused for a second. "Not very talkative, are we?" The question reverberated off the walls and high ceiling. I grunted igorantly, folding my wings tightly against my back. With my best face of boredom, I started strolling toward the throne, just listening as the Voice continued its attempts to get me to talk. I couldn't deny it, I was scared out of my wits, but I couldn't allow myself to show it. I stopped just a couple yards away from the steps. Something moved in my peripheral vision, just in the shadows of one of the huge pillars, and I nearly jumped out of my skin.

"Damn it!" I hissed, breathing hard. I hated being frightened like that, and now I was slightly pissed. I glanced up again in time to see a somewhat handsome young man come forth from the shadows. I stood up, trying to collect myself into a more decent stance. Didn't really work as well as I thought it would.

The man looked rather amused. "My apologies, did I scare you?" He asked, but I found no hint of sincere courtesy. It was partly derision, although… his voice did hold some sort of, well, nervousness that truly confused me.

"Oh, you noticed," I muttered, straightening myself. I studied his outlandishly weird features. His hair, for example, was chaotic, standing up in fiery orange flames. I could easily recognize the auburn eyes that glinted darkly in the daylight. But the aspects I had had yet to see were pretty much everything else, and I took a second to thoroughly look him over. His ears (which, as I expected, were long and pointy like that boy, Jak's) and face were tattooed in strange a pattern of faint blue, and he wore a sort of mask, which was pulled up on his forehead at the moment. It looked… alien. I can't explain it, really, it just had these big buggy red eye glasses that gave me the impression of, like, a gasmask. Sort of. Well, you'll have to live without certain specific details. I can't sit around describing things. But the one important thing that I saw was that he wore a red uniform of chest and shoulder armor bearing that black mask symbol, that resembled the crimson soldiers' suits. _Might be a chief officer of some sort,_ I guessed vaguely. His eyes narrowed, and he started at a slow, dawdling pace toward me. He looked fairly lenient as he did so, with an exceptionally neutral – only slightly smug – grin, so I resisted the urge to turn tail and flee. Why so haughty, Mr. Commando?

"Ah, yes. Well, again – my apologies. For that, and for confining such a charming creature like you in such an unpleasant detention." The man advanced until he loomed over me, just all of a foot away. To most people, I was pretty tall, but this guy was tall_er_. My eyes were level to his chin. I backed up involuntarily, not enjoying the feeling midget... ness.

"Great," I said bitterly, straightening my gown. "Apology (hardly) accepted." I felt sort of exposed; it's fabric stopped a few inches short of my knees, and I wasn't quite used to that. I usually wore full-length jeans. Just a little tidbit about me.

He gave one spiteful laugh, then walked toward the stairs and sat on the third step nonchalantly. "Well, I could have clipped your wings and killed you myself…" Grinning that same careless little grin, he tapped the handgun holster strapped to his left thigh with a gloved finger.

_Ooh… dangerous. I'm scared now. _Somewhat true. I said nothing, just frowned to cover up my unease.

"We haven't been properly introduced," began the creepy dude that was seriously beginning to scare me. He took a little jesting bow. "I am Erol, famously known as the Commander of the Krimzon Guard."

I snorted, but managed to pass it off as a violent sneeze when it was too late to do otherwise. "Erol?" I replied as casually as I could. "That's… cool. My name's Noel." Yea, who cares? I'm not very formal. I mean – Noel, famously known as the Amazing Bird Girl. Ha!

Erol nodded, staring at me in a fascination that really made me want to slap him silly. "What a pleasure. So, Noel, what do you think of Praxis' Palace?" I paused, shifting my weight from foot to foot. After a moment, I decided to play it cool for now. This guy seemed to like me, or at least have interest in my being. I could make this work somehow.

"I'm sorry… I don't know who Praxis is, I don't know where I am, and I don't know why I'm here. Could you fill me in?" I forced a small but convincing smile, which he returned. All of his earlier mockery and bantering was gone; either he was a good actor and in reality wanted to interrogate then torture me, or he was actually beginning to enjoy my company. _Gahh._

"You're within the protective walls of Haven City." Erol answered arrogantly. "Governed by Baron Praxis, as well as I. One of my Krimzon Guard units found you nearly dead in the desert, several miles outside the city walls – quite close to Spargus, in fact. I'm surprised the Wastlelanders didn't find you." He looked at me, reading my obvious expression of confusion. "You fell into the right hands, Noel. You're a lucky girl to have me to protect you. After all, I am the second highest in power in Haven."

_What a prick. _I smiled, doing my best to look amazed/grateful. "I guess I am."

Erol suddenly jumped up and crossed the space between us. "Come now, I have clothes, specially made by a local tailor for you, fit for public eyes." He pressed a gloved hand to my mid back, making me flinch against my will. He didn't seem to notice though, as he went to lead me back through the door, where two fresh Krimzon Guards awaited. Maybe I was just paranoid, but I think I felt his gentle fingers gliding up my back to lightly touch the bases of my wings. I stiffened, trying my best not to freak and spazz out on him, or smack him or something. Oh, how I wanted to wack that pervert. But I just wasn't that brave...

"Escort the lady to the guest bedroom, and have someone bring her her items," commanded Erol, and the Guards saluted. This was the good part, I was being pampered. Erol had taken a liking to me, and I was no longer rotting in prison for no reason. _Haha, this is getting fun!_ I thought, just barely able to hide my smile. Erol turned to me. "I'll meet back with you soon. I have business to attend to, for the time being. But I look forward to giving you a tour of the Palace." _Aha_! Right there was my ticket out. I didn't care how much this guy cared about me – he was turning out to be a huge, self-righteous jerk. Once I knew my way around, I could figure out how to get out. Walk right out the front door. Eh, doubtful. But something like that. The Guards didn't grab me this time, only waited patiently to assume my spot between them, flanked by their protection. As I did so, I was aware of Erol's auburn eyes linger on me as the Guards and I left him in the doorway of the throne room. _Yuck. _I thought inwardly as I was ushered through the corridors. _This guy acts like a prince with his princess around me, and I hardly know him. I'm all of fourteen or fifteen years old. And he's like, what, twenty-five? Creep._

The Guards eventually stopped by a door, then stood on either side of it with their guns at the ready. I stood there for a second, looking at them. Dang, they were like statues. I got curious and went so far as to wave a hand in front of one of the Guards' masked face. He looked down at me, glowing red scopes reflecting my face back at me. I blushed, randomly startled, and wasted no time hurrying through the door.


	5. Up and Away

Yeah, yeah. I know it's late, but hey...  
Gotta have time, you know?  
Sorry for the wait, please read and review ;D

**Disclaimer: **I own the plot and myself... if that makes sense. (O_o)

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**Chapter #5 - Up & Away**

Inside, I identified the room as the one I'd awoken in. The bed was now made, and on it was a neatly stacked pile of clothes. I reluctantly put them on, then looked in the mirror beside the chiffarobe.

"Damn," I breathed, looking over the pale blue dress I now wore. It resembled the sleeping gown, but this one was a halter top, which meant I could easily slip my wings in and out. I also had on a silver necklace with some sort of clear, light-emitting crystal, and a white sash around my waist. All of it was kind of over the top, but I didn't want to offend my oh, so-handsome savior, now did I? Ha. But beneath the dress, I wore a skin-tight body suit that would hopefully cover me from beneath from prying eyes when I was airborne. I didn't want people looking up my dress, thank you very much. I knew I'd probably ditch the dress once I got out of this 'palace' and take a look into a local store for some jeans and _non_ dress-up clothes. I left the mirror and was about to leave the room, when I smelled this wonderful aroma that suddenly made my stomach almost literally _howl_ at me. Don't ask how I could make that analogy. Anywho, my starvation came right back to me, like a slap in the face. and I looked around, noticing my thunderous hunger again for the first time since I woke up. Then I saw it: on the nightstand beside the bed was a platter of – you guessed it. _Food! _I hadn't eaten in what felt like forever. On the tray were three eggs, a piece of toast, and an assortment of fruits that I'd never seen before. I eyed it down, but took no time to actually savor the wonderful tastes. One fruit sort of looked like a cherry, but it had exterior seeds, like a strawberry. I normally didn't eat eggs, but all three of them disappeared pretty quickly. And so within minutes, the platter was empty, and I was satisfied. I wanted to just flop onto the bed and digest. Instead I returned to the waiting Guards outside the guest bedroom. There was a third Guard who held my tie-dye shoulder bag that I hadn't seen since I passed out in the desert. It was filthy, colors dulled beneath sand and dirt, but it was as full as I remembered. I gave the Guard a quick smile and took the bag, opened it and made sure everything was there. Everything was there, my iPod, my _American Outfitters _jacket, the photo of me and my aunt and what few books I had carried. But there was one thing that I already knew was missing. "Excuse me, where's my bow?" I asked timidly, looking up. He did not answer me. He only turned and walked away. _Fine. _"Be that way," I muttered under my breath, taking my iPod out of my bag. I'd get another.

The two attendant Guards went to take their positions on either side of me, but I sidestepped them. "I'll be fine on my own, really." I forced a soft smile. They looked at each other for a split second, making a silent agreement. A quick nod from both of them, and they turned in unison and left me to wander by my lonesome. This as just getting too easy. I slung the tie-dye bag over my shoulder and ambled off in the opposite direction, looking around. I turned on my iPod and shuffled through the songs. It was amazing the battery had any juice left. I finally settled on _I'm Yours_ by Jason Mraz. Now, to all of you who don't like Jason Mraz, that's great for you. I _loooove_ his music. I couldn't help but sing along as I strolled down the corridors – I knew every freaking word. Hell, I even had a cute little bounce in my step. Happy time for Noel.

I did a quick 360° and noticed nobody was around. I was alone. Hesitantly, I stretched my wings to full length and shook them out. I was grateful of the relief, I hated holding them tight to my back every painful second.

The whole wall to my left was a giant window. The warmth of the sun's light that poured in felt wonderful on my skin, which was ashen compared to my usual tan. My white wings (with light speckles of tan, in case you were wondering) curved around on either side and captured the light around me. Interesting effect, if you can picture it. I walked to the window and placed a single hand on it as I peered through. The building in which I was seemed to tower over everything else, and the view was fantastic, let me tell you. From what I could see, the city was divided into several separate sections, each looking very different in comparison. The city itself was enclosed inside a huge barrier wall, but I could see several areas outside that I already wanted to check out. The song ended, and _Fireflies _began, one of my all time favorite songs by Owl City. I was so glad to hear the familiar notes after the never-ending silence of the cell. I felt almost… at home.

I heard a voice over my earbuds, and I jumped, swearing under my breath. I turned to see Erol looking at me, leaning against the window with his arms folded.

"What was that you said?" I asked, pulling out one of the buds so I could hear.

He chuckled. "I said, you have a lovely voice."

I just stared at him. "Huh?" Oh, I must have still been singing aloud. Woops. "No, I'm just… listening… ah… Here," I said awkwardly, stepping closer to hand him the bud I wasn't listening to. I had to get close to him so the other one wouldn't be yanked out of my ear. Erol blinked, looking at the earbud with a confused expression, like he wasn't sure what to do with it. He seemed to understand after a second, because he held it close to his own ear. (I hardly managed to keep my eyes concentrated on him rather than his freaky elf ears. Sorry if the constant reminder is getting annoying, I'm still just getting over it.) I laughed at his expression of… well, of _whoa. _I guess they didn't have stuff like iPods, despite the freaky technology that seemed to be the whol architectural design of the city.

"This is interesting…" He murmured, looking up at me. Our faces were all of three or four inches apart, and I was feeling uncomfortable. My cheeks warmed, probably now a deep scarlet shade, and I glanced awkwardly to the side. I felt his amber eyes still on my face. Erol straightened and handed me back the earbud. "I promised you a tour, did I not?"

I nodded and followed my escort when he started walking down the hallway. His strides were so long I had to jog to keep up. Erol gestured toward the window wall. "What you see from here is only the Northern half of Haven..." He led me through several passages, throwing in a note here and there. I didn't listen, though, I was looking out for breakable windows or air ducts that could be easily accessed. We went up an elevator a couple times, and I came out with shaky legs. The dang thing rose/fell so quickly, then stopped so abruptly. I had to hold onto Erol to keep myself from toppling over.

I got bored after ten minutes, but I hoped I looked interested. I started up a conversation. "So… who was that boy? Back in the prison fortress?"

Erol's eyes suddenly looked guarded. He answered hesitantly, "An experiment. The Baron was doing tests on him, looking for new ways to advance the war. The brat escaped, though. Why do you ask?"

I shrugged, looking away. "Oh, just curious… So you said something about a war…?"

He nodded and dropped his gaze to the floor, rubbing the back of his neck. "The Metal Heads are pressing their attacks on the city." There were those Metal Heads again. Still funny. I listened as he went on. "They're getting aggressive, and I want to take them out personally."

_Okay, Mr. Macho. Have fun with that._ I sighed, answering unenthusiastically. "Oh. Cool." Erol was quiet for a moment, as if thinking to himself. He suddenly turned to me, lightly grinning.

"I'm going to show you the balcony."

I couldn't help but smile at his stupidity. Did he seriously trust me? Wow, this guy wasn't the brightest. But that was sure nice of him. The flame-headed commander took me gently by the wrist and hauled me back to the elevator. I hissed under my breath when it suddenly rushed upward. When it stopped, (me almost being thrown to the ceiling of the little box) the doors opened up to sunshine and fresh, warm air. I stepped outside, forgetting the slight nausea from the elevator. Erol led me to the edge of the balcony, where I leaned over the stone banister to gaze down at the streets. The outlook on Haven City was wonderful. Straight below, there was a plaza in front of the Palace, in the middle of which was a huge fountain with a statue of who I guessed was Baron Praxis. I saw tiny dots that roamed about, probably pedestrians out to enjoy the sunshine.

"Wow…" I breathed.

Erol was a few feet behind me, watching me intently with a rather smug grin. "Lovely, isn't it?"

I nodded distantly, feeling dizzy. Not even_ I_ flew this high up. I backed up a few feet, closer to where he stood. I was a bit more comfortable there, thank you very much.

I heard Erol chuckle softly behind me, and was just beginning to turn to face him when suddenly he snaked his arm around my waist and pulled my body close to his, which brought my face only inches from his. "So very, very lovely," he whispered. I was too startled to struggle or slap him, like I wanted to so very, very much. Instead, I probably looked somewhat calmer than I felt, though my mind was screaming, _Ah!_ _Friggin' rape!_

I stared up at him, eyes wide. He stared back at me intently. I tried to push him away, but my arms felt like jello and found myself just scrabbling ineffectively at his chest. His hand crept up between my wings to clutch the small of my back. Erol slowly leaned his head in obviously savoring the moment. But right before our lips touched, I found myself. I shoved him away from me, breathing roughly, and got as far from him as I could. My back was to the banister on the edge, and I could back up no more.

He was frowning, almost scowling. "I'm sorry," he murmured, stepping forward.

_Don't be,_ I thought briskly, but actually didn't say anything. I glanced casually over my shoulder and climbed warily up onto the banister. I stood on the narrow concrete beam and spread my wings to balance myself, and he paused, looking dazed and confused for a moment. But in the next second, Erol's face was a mix of horror and regret as he suddenly lurched toward me shouting, "_No!" _But I didn't notice much else once I let myself slip. "Sayonara!" I called up at him, the wind almost ripping the sound from my lips as I fell backward. The last I saw of him was his silhouette, black against the brightness of the sun, as he leaned over the edge to stare after me. The walls of the Palace whooshed past me like I was in an invisible elevator that was... well, free falling. The roar of wind filled my ears, and I was sure as Hell glad to be back up in the air again. I twisted around in the air and angled my body just right. My wings opened only a little, but they gathered wind immediately and I immediately slowed. With a few down strokes, I was rising, and eventually soaring, maybe four hundred feet over the city.

I took a few huge breaths and let it all out, relieved beyond relief to be away from the prison, the Palace, and most of all, Erol.

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**Tell me what you think of the whole Erol thing plz. :D**


	6. A Not So Safe Haven

**Yes! It's finally up!  
And for all of your patience, I give you in return an action-packed chapter!**

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****Chapter #6 - A Not So Safe Haven**

Right as I was landing, I wished Erol had given me a tour of the _city__. _The place was huge! I couldn't even decide where to land. And when I did, there wasn't really a place where people wouldn't stare at me. I was in a sort of run-down market-place that kind of reminded me of the marketplace in Aladdin's kingdom.

People were casting glances and doing the ever-so-hilarious double-takes. Hello! I'm not the one with big ears! Oh.. hang on. Scratch that—I'm the one _without_ big ears. Everyone had them. Of course there where varying hair and skin colors, but everyone had those weird ears. With the exception of me, of course. I didn't have time to hide my enormous wings before I was spotted… so I was the center of attention as I warily walked down the street of the old-time bazaar. I could smell fish… fruits… bread… they all smelled wonderful, but the scents were whirling around in my head so fast I couldn't think straight. It was confusing, disorienting even. So I took off running toward what looked like a different part of the city. I needed to think. This place was seriously beginning to scare me. But just as I stepped over the line that separated the two sections, just before I reached the first of the neatly lined buildings, it was like I hit a glass wall. I fell back, utterly bewildered.

"What the h—" I began, but was interrupted by that metallic female voice. _"Entrance denied; you do not have proper clearance._" I just sat there, gawking at the yellowish ripple in the air that seemed to make a barrier between the sections. I bet they had those up in every sector. But I didn't _need _proper clearance… Grinning evilly, I knew I had other ways. I stood and stretched my wings, ignoring the questioning gazes of the civilians. With a powerful kick off the ground, I rose, up over the buildings and tried again. HA! It worked! I snickered. _Yea, bet y'all didn't expect me coming, now did ya? _I nearly shouted it aloud as I let by self fall a little bit, landing in the shadows of a building on the other side so most people wouldn't notice. But people were still staring from the other side of the Yellow Gate, as well as some from this side. People were pointing. I scowled and pulled my American Outfitters jacket out of my tie-dye back and put it on over my wings, though it made me look bulky. I stuck to the shadows as I walked down the street, letting my eyes wander over the metallic structures of the whole part of the sector.

All of a sudden a familiar voice caught my attention, booming around the walls of the Industrial part of town. I knew it wasn't _the_ Voice. It wasn't Erol. No, but it was very familiar. I looked around curiously to see an advocate stand with a speaker and a holographic image hovering above it. The image reminded me of the palace… Then something clicked. Oh! It was the Baron! That voice I'd hear back at the Prison Fortress. I paused and listened as it played its recorded messages to the city.

"Attention civilians! We are looking for a rebel citizen who has caused considerable damage." I pursed my lips, wondering if this had anything to do with me. "This man is armed…" No... not me. I'm not a man, obviously. "…and extremely dangerous. And can somehow change into a monstrous creature."

Okay… strange. Creepy. Cool. "We have reports that he is working with the metal heads to submerge our city and our safety! Report all sightings immediately." I rolled my eyes started to walk away. It wasn't my problem.

"Don't try to make a fool out of me, Jak." I heard the voice again, and this time it was deep, low, and menacing. What's more was that it was directed toward one person. That boy from the prison fortress! Was he this 'rebel citizen?' Couldn't be. I listened carefully, fearing for Jak, even though he'd left me at that wretched place in his own escape. "Just because I haven't killed you yet," continued Praxis. "…doesn't mean I'm not on to you. The citizens of the city worship me, because I offer them safety. All I ask in return is their lives. I will find you. And when I do… you'll wish you died in prison." The last sentence was low. A dark threat that had even me wanting to run away from it. How could someone be so cruel?

I shivered and for the second time, I started to flee from that scary voice.

"Little Noel…" I squeaked and froze on the spot, but didn't turn around. This _was_ Erol. His cold voice seemed to nip at my ears and rattle my brain. I couldn't make myself move, so I had to listen as Erol spoke to me and only me, speaking so low it was dangerously seductive. Ew. "You know as well as I that I'll find you. I'll have you." There was a quiet pause, then he said, "Until then, my lady." His obvious wicked grin seemed to drip from the words. And with that, the message simply ended and Praxis' recordings picked up again on their usual speeches. I felt like I was about to fall over and start crying.

I was here. Wanted. Wanted in a strange city. Wanted in a strange city that was at war and governed by a horrible baron. I wrapped my arms around myself like I was hugging myself, longing for comfort and home. But there was no home. I looked around again, for the first time noticing cars overhead. Yes. Overhead. Hover cars? No way! Completely forgetting about the sinister messages, I stared up at a shiny red single-seater, which was followed by a 70's-looking double-seater, and then a huge Krimzon hovercraft in red, with some sort of gun welded to the front. Its gigantic shadow fell over me, and as I looked up, I read three words plastered to the bottom of the vehicle: _Krimzon Hellcat Patrol_. Just wonderful. When I looked down again, I saw a couple parked hover cars just waiting for someone to take them. Curious, I slyly inched toward the glossy single-seater. It was a sky-blue with yellow racing stripes on the wings and tail. It looked like a miniature airplane. On the side, painted in the same yellow gloss, it said, _Haven Zoomer. _So they called them Zoomers then. I stepped back from the Zoomer, hoping nobody thought I was about to hijack it or something and call the Guards. Didn't want to make a scene.

My eyes were still lingering on its glittery paint when something whooshed past my back, nearly taking my wings with it. I screeched, startled half to death. What the hell! I whipped around to catch a glimpse of a young man on a Zoomer turn the corner and disappear from view. But with that one glance, I knew exactly who it was. Green hair, blue tunic, orange fuzz ball. Jak! He was lower than the other zoomers, and definitely going much faster. Was there a package on the back of his vehicle? What was he doing? When the roaring of many other pumping engines filled the air, I glanced over my shoulder just in time to jump out of the way of speeding Krimzon Guard vehicles. Not Hellcats, but single-seaters in the same Krimzon paint and guns protruding from the front. They vanished around the corner, followed by Guards on foot.

_Oh, hell!_ Without even thinking, I jumped on the idle Zoomer I'd been analyzing earlier, and hoped to God the owner wouldn't mind to much, if there was an owner. Having no clue how to operate a car – let alone a Zoomer – I began hitting random buttons and pulling levers until it hitched into gear and jerked forward. I think I may have left my stomach behind…

I scowled against the wind in my eyes and tried not to hit anything or anyone as I followed the flashing lights of the Guards' vehicles. I would've taken my jacket off and flown, but I didn't want the Guards after me, too. So I tried to keep a slow pace and not get them riding my tail by simply speeding (figure of speech; I don't have a tail, people. Calm down.). But when I caught up enough to see, I watched as flaming bullets whizzed past a reckless Jak, just barely missing him. Suddenly it didn't matter if I was chased or caught. I wanted to help Jak, despite the fact that he hadn't helped me. I didn't like to let people be hurt, though he seemed to be doing alright at the moment. Besides – the Guards had been real assholes before Erol had gone all gooey over me. So maybe they should have a taste… I knew I would regret it though, what with all the bullets screeching everywhere.

I sped up, grinning wildly as I drew near to the four Krimzon Guard units and rammed into the tail of one of their Zoomers. I almost squeed in exctement when the driver shouted at me, did the practical shaking-of-the-fist, and nearly fell off his seat when turning around. Another closely followed him. I took off down a side street, turned a couple corners and lost them by ditching my ride and taking off on foot at first, then by wing once out of sight of any other Guards. Damn, I was just breaking all the rules. I'm so bad, right? Teehee. It didn't take long to locate the chase again. There was a lot of shouting. They were heading toward the huge circular port in the southernmost part of Haven. I half flew, half ran over the building tops alongside the street, then launched myself toward the racing Zoomers with a bloodcurdling screech that sounded more like a joyful _whoo-hoo! _than a battle cry. I was actually having fun. A lot of the Guards who resided on foot took aim to me, but I managed to avoid their frantic gunshots and taser-like rods. One other Guard had joined the pursuit, and ahead of them poor Jak was beginning to look like he was losing control of the whole thing. Daxter was clinging to his friend's shoulder like there was no tomorrow. This, there might not have been. I swooped down and grabbed hold of two of the Guards' helmets, smashed them together, and watched as both men to fall off their Zoomers. Ha! I laughed playfully as the last one looked behind and realized he had no backup. I smiled sweetly at him, and even though I couldn't see his face inside the ugly mask, I knew by his hesitation before he yanked his gun out that he didn't want to shoot me. But apparently he had orders. And orders were orders. He was just taking aim when I smiled again, waved, and swerved to the left after Jak, leaving the poor Guard to epically smash into a wall and detonate his own vehicle as well as others that were behind him. I could feel the heat behind me, and I could hear the boom crystal-clear, but I didn't look back. Instead I was staring at a gaping hole in my left arm, just above my elbow. My flesh had been scored rigorously and was cascading blood, dotting the ground with spatters of scarlet. It burned, and the pain was already registering in my brain, which was bad at the moment. I covered the wound with my right hand to stop the blood from flowing so quickly, but it seeped out from between my fingers. Crap! I might have hit a major vessel or something... I definitely wouldn't do this again.

I glanced up again, trying to push aside the harsh throbbing of my wounded limb. Jak had slowed, obviously having looked back and caught sight of me. Yes! He was staring at me, looking confused, yet at the same time grateful. I descended and practically tumbled to a stop. Suddenly I felt very weak, very tired, as if my energy was leaking from me as fast as the blood. I just wanted to curl up and go to sleep. My spontaneous boldness was fading and giving space for the return of my fear and cowardness, and the Guards were obviously noticing it because they weren't acting so cautious as they ran up. I just stared at them with wide eyes, unable to move. Damn, I was such a wus. Apparently this whole battle thing wasn't for me. It was fun for all of two seconds, and then the consequences kicked in and it wasn't quite so fun anymore. I wondered how Jak had only a cut here, and maybe a bruise there, but not a freaking bullet hole square in the middle of his chest. I fell to the ground just before I reached his Zoomer. Krimzon Guards were running toward us, and I didn't quite feel up to going back to the Prison Fortress, so I began to struggle frantically, reaching up in attempt to pull myself onto the Zoomer. Unfortunately, I was a bit too low to the ground for that.

Wonderful! Was I going to be left again? I hoped not… surely he wouldn't be so small-minded. I didn't really know the guy (yet) but he seemed so gentle (despite the fact that he'd probably easily taken down many people before hand). Gentle in a strange way. I looked up at him, squinting against the harsh glare of the sun directly behind him. The Guards were beginning to close in on us. I could hear them barking around orders. Suddenly a strong hand caught mine and I was hauled up onto the seat of a Zoomer.

"Hold on," growled a rough voice, and I threw both arms around Jak's torso as we lurched forward.


	7. The New Kid

**Okay, I edited the last chapter cause I totally agree with one of my reviewers; I way overused the battlewound thing, so I reduced it to only the arm. Kay? Kay.**

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****Chapter #7 - The New Kid**

I didn't really pay attention to anything other than the tender pain of my arm for a while. It had calmed a little, but it still hurt like a bitch. (Pardon my French.)

Jak didn't talk, and neither did I. Daxter occasionally sneaked glances at me, but that was it as far as conversation went. I just hugged Jak tightly and tried to hold my lunch down as we blasted through the streets at eighty miles per hour with Guards after us. Before long, we ditched the Zoomer in front of one building out of many that surrounded the huge port. The storefront was flashing neon lights above the door, in an arrangement of what may have been letters that were definitely unfamiliar to me. Above that was a large mechanical bot that appeared to be laughing, but really looked more like it was in pain. I had no idea what it was depicting, though. And there were no windows that I could see, which made me pretty darn edgy.

"Where are we?" I asked quietly, sliding off the seat of the vehicle. No answer was returned. I held my hurt arm close to my belly. The blood had almost stopped by now, and most of it was smeared across the front of Jak's shirt. What was weird was that I'd somehow managed _not_ to soak my own baby-blue dress. I dropped my gaze to the ground when Jak examined his soiled clothing with that frown that seemed to be plastered to his face at all times. Fortunately, he didn't comment. I pulled my jacket on, sighing as I folded my sore wings tidily and slipped my throbbing arm beneath the thick cloth.

"Come on." Jak grabbed the package that was strapped to the back of the Zoomer and started toward the store, disappeared through the airlock door, leaving me outside. I hesitated for a couple seconds eyeing the sign cagily. _What is this place? _Then I sighed, shrugged the agitation off, and approached the door. I reached out to open it, then remembered too late that it was an automatic, just like all the others probably were. It opened with a fast _whoosh_ that scared the hell outta me and made me jump like an idiot. I quickly gathered myself and entered the building. The big room had strange-looking décor hung about. Small cells with tables and chairs in them ran along the sides, and in the center of the whole room was… eesh. It looked like a stripper pole or something. Hopefully the _something _and not what it looked like. At the far end of the room, there was a counter and above it were shelves that held bottles of varying shapes, colors, and sizes.

Wonderful. I was in a bar.

The door shut suddenly behind me, and I sort of yelped and whipped around like a mad woman. Laughing rather sheepishly at myself, I turned again – and froze. Four people – excuse me, THREE and a talking animal – were staring at me. Nobody else was in the room. Daxter was sitting on the counter, and Jak was next to him, holding what I guessed was a gun. Beside him was a… oh, my _God_. FAT! The guy was huge. And not huge as in muscular. No – far from it. I'm talking flabby and just plain _huge_. So fat that his saggy ears didn't even stick up like Jak's did. He was seated comfortably in a chair that was hovering, a few feet off the ground. He held the package Jak had been carrying in one chubby ringed hand.

"Who's this, ey?" He questioned Jak in an accent I couldn't quite place.

Jak turned his chilling blue eyes away from me and faced the fat man again, who was floating (and I kid you not, the chair actually still floated under his weight) around toward me. I had to silently tell myself to stand still and not take off like a scared little puppy when he practically shoved his round face into mine. Good Lord, is breath stunk like hell! I bit my lip and kept my eyes straight forward as the scary obese man looked me over. When he reached out to touch my face, I squirmed and slipped around him to stand behind Jak like a total coward. But to my surprise, he stood defensively in front of me.

"A friend," Jak answered simply. _Psh. Yea right._ I mentally rolled my eyes. "She needs help. I need you to take care of her while I'm gone." I choked on my own breath. He was going to leave me here? Not again! I couldn't help but frown and drop my gaze. He didn't want me tagging along, even after I helped him escape the Krimzon Guards. Well, damn.

The creepy fat guy sighed. "Do come back with those course results, _mmm_?"

Jak nodded once and glanced over his shoulder at me. "Don't do anything stupid. I'll be back in a few minutes." I nodded wordlessly, then watched him leave. _Jerk_. Daxter scrambled onto his shoulder and gave me a witty salute just before the door shut in his face. I slipped over to a corner while the fat guy drifted toward the wall above the counter and begun to dust the picture frames that hung there. I slid into a chair and rested my forehead on my right arm atop the table, my hurt arm cradled in my lap. It was quiet. Good. I needed time to think.

"Hey there, Lil' Cherry." Damn it. I looked up groggily – then sat up quickly, my eyes wide. Across from me now sat the fourth person in the room whom I had yet to meet. He was a burly black man in armor – head to toe. His skin was a nice russet color, well what you could see of it. His staff, which matched his attire, was leaning against the wall outside the little cell. The man himself held a mug that probably contained some sort of liquor or something, and he was sitting nonchalantly, as if to be obvious that I didn't have to be scared. Hell, he even had a kind smile on his battled-scarred face. "Look, don't let Krew get ya down. He's just a little—"

"It's not him," I interrupted him, not really in the mood for any cheering-up. Nonetheless, I was still polite and had no hint of discourtesy in my voice. I folded my arms on top of the table and sighed. "I've just been very confused lately, that's all." I looked around, but still listened.

There was a quiet pause, then he said, "Well let's hope you can get un-confused. The name's Sig, by the way." He smiled. "The boy with the fuzzball said you needed some help. Is that true or—" Sig stopped in mid-sentence, and I looked at him to see what was wrong. "Oh, Cherry, you do need help," he said, reaching out toward me. I shrunk back, confused. Sig paused for a second, then sat back in his chair. More gently, he said, "Let me see that arm of yours." I frowned, then looked down at my arm. I scowled at it. It had bled through my jacket and was now forming a dark scarlet stain on the sleeve.

I looked back up to meet Sig's eyes and shook my head passively. "I'm fine," I said quietly; I couldn't take off my jacket. Not right now. "It's just a scratch." I pulled both arms back to me and hid them under the table

His eyebrows came together in a concerned furrow. He held out one hand over the table. "I know that ain't no scratch. Now, you better get that dang jacket off so I can bandage yer arm." The command in his deep, husky voice made me shrink into my chair. Damn it, how can I possibly refuse to do what anyone tells me to do? I'm like a freaking rag doll around here. Frowning, I did as I was told. My wings felt relieved as they were able to stretch out, or at least as far as the tiny room allowed. I couldn't bring myself to meet Sig's gaze as I slipped my arms out of the sleeves. There was a moment of awkward silence. I assumed he was about to grab me and take me to the Palace, back to that horrible Erol – or worse: the prison. But instead he laughed, a booming laugh that gave me the courage to glance up again. He was grinning. "You're that flygirl that the Commander's out for, aren't you? Noel?"

I nodded sullenly. "He did bad stuff to me." Tried to, anyway.

Sig sat back in his chair again. "Well, you're safe with the Underground."

What was the Underground? I was confused, but I didn't ask. I rested my bare arms one the cool surface of the table, careful not to open the gash any further. The blood was starting to dry, and the bloodflow had reduced to a small trickle. And yet it _still_ hurt like a bitch. (And sorry about the French again.) Sig's grin vanished and turned into a frown. "No, that ain't just a scratch." He stood up without a word and crossed the room over to the counter, where he pulled a small beige plastic box out from a shelf. He returned to me and took a seat, opening the box on the table. He pulled out a couple sanitary wipes and handed them to me. "Here. Add pressure." I immediately began dabbing it at the blood, then got a good look at the wound. It was about the size of a golf ball, and I could clearly see the bone. Knowing my metabolism, it would be a little pink dot in three or four days. Yay biologically engineered life forms! Ha. I watched lazily as Sig pulled out a roll of gauze, a needle and some medical thread. Oh, God.

"No!" The word burst from my mouth before I had time to think about it. Sig looked at me, questioning. I took a deep breath. "No stitches." I hated needles. They were among my worst fears. And I didn't want to think of Sig as a whitecoat. He was my first real friend here in this perilous Haven City. So far.

He studied my expression for a second or two, then shrugged. "Have it your way."

Once the gash was all cleaned up, Sig wrapped it in thick gauze and bandage tape. "Good as new," he chuckled.

I looked at it awkwardly. "Sort of."

Right then the door swooshed open, and I saw Jak enter the room. The gun was in the holster strapped to his back. He had a small piece of paper in one hand. Krew swooped down from his housecleaning and snatched the paper, giving it a mere glance. "Excellent shooting, Jak! Ever thought about being a Wastelander, _mmmm_?"

Jak folded his arms, and Daxter hopped off his shoulder. "Can't say that I have." Sig threw me a quick grin and got up to join them.

I sighed and stayed where I sat, putting my jacket back on out of sheer reserve. I drifted into my own thoughts while the men talked.

But then Daxter's obnoxious voice cut through my train of thought. "Slow down, Jak and the fat man!" I looked over at the group, then drew up some courage to join them. Daxter continued as I made my way over to them by the door. "You two had better run that by again. Cause there's _no way _I'm goin' outside the city walls to face more Metal Heads!"

Metal Heads again. I was getting really curious as to what these Metal Heads were. Was I even right to ask? I would wait, and maybe I would meet one later. (Hopefully not, if they were the enemy.)

Krew smirked. "Sig will show you the ropes."

I leaned a shoulder against a wall as I watched Sig step up to Jak and the fuzzy mouth piece. "So you want to be Wastelanders, huh doughboys?" He said, folding his arms across his massive chest. "Well, we'll she what you're made of when we get out into the thick. Krew wants some new trophies to put butts in chairs at the Hip Hog. So I'm gonna bag him five nasty Metal Heads at the Pumping Station." I frowned when Daxter looked like he was about to run out screaming _bloody murder_. But Sig smiled and laughed once. "Don't wet yer fur, Chili Pepper. Cause we're rollin' with the Peacemaker." He held up his staff, grinning hugely. Now that I thought about it, the staff looked more like a weapon of mass destruction than a staff or a walking stick. Good Lord. I didn't want Jak, Daxter, or Sig getting killed out there – they were the only ones I knew I _might _be able to trust. I was going to help them even if I died, though it didn't seem like such a big mission the way the talked about it. My life didn't matter much anyways. Hell, I'd be a diversion if they asked me to. I missed half the conversation while I was thinking, but then I heard Jak say, "Let's do it." And he left the room, poor two-foot-tall-Daxter running after him on the floor. I followed, but just before I left the room, I turned to smile and thank Sig.

"Oh, by the way," I said quietly, pausing only for a second. "You can call me Ellie." I surprised myself. Only my aunt had called me that. And she was dead. Well, I need to move on, I told myself. Making friends is good. Right?

The door closed behind me. I turned around and inhaled deeply. Jak was standing a few feet away, looking up at the Zoomers overhead. Deep concentration clouded his eyes. "…a fast one," Daxter was saying,.

"What are you doing?" I asked slowly, eyeing him suspiciously. But instead of answering me, Jak swiftly crouched like a wildcat stalking its prey. I gawked as he sprang up, higher than I could jump without using my wings. I just stood there and watched him in horror as he caught the wing of a red one-seater. What the hell? That was not okay. _That was not okay_! "Jak!" I shouted, watching him pull himself up and throw the driver to the ground. I ran over to the man and helped him up. "What the hell are you doing?" I shrieked, feeling hysterics creeping up my spine.

"Get on. Now." He looked down at me and dropped the Zoomer to the lower hover zone. I bit my lip and threw one last remorseful glance back at the poor man before I hauled myself onto the seat behind Jak. _And he couldn't have gotten a two-seater, out of all of the choices? _This guy was seriously beginning to piss me off. It was awkward enough having to hug him like a freaking lover with no life. Ugh, I couldn't imagine anyone who'd want to be with the jerk. But, hey, I'd rather not fall off the vehicle going eighty miles an hour. The po-pos had already taken after us, and we were speeding through the section of the city that I'd almost been run over by the boy I was squeezing myself against.

"We're going to the Pumping Station for a little while. Don't hurt yourself while we're there," said Jak all of a sudden. I rolled my eyes. Did he think I was mental or something? I'd show him that I wasn't all feathers and pixie dust.

"Kay," I said, sighing. I rested my cheek against his back, watching lights flash by like some sort of glow show in the fading evening sunlight.

I was just beginning to fall asleep when the throaty purr of the Zoomer's motor was cut off abruptly.

"Up n' at 'em, Feathers!" Daxter's voice cut through my half-awake dreaming. I yawned. Damn, I was tired. I looked around, blinking the dreams of sleep out of my eyes. It was dark. We were in a place I hadn't seen yet… It looked run-down and slightly ghetto. The buildings seriously needed repair as well as the streets, and I wasn't really sure if we were in Haven City anymore. But this didn't look like a pumping station. I noticed that we were at a dead end in the road. Jak was waiting for me to remove my stranglehold from around his waist. I did so, not meeting his gaze, and half-jumped, half-flopped off of the Zoomer. So graceful. I regained my balance while Jak hopped lithely from the seat and headed toward a wall. As my eyes adapted to the hues of nightfall, I saw that the wall displayed the Baron's royal symbol. But there was one difference: painted above the black skull-mask-thingie was a mallet. My first guess was that it denoted something along the lines of '_Down with Praxis!_' Cool. But everything set aside, we weren't at the Pumping Station. Maybe Jak was just going to pick something up, or drop something off. I was debating whether or not I'd follow or stay by the Zoomer, when Jak motioned for me to follow. And I took a deep breath and did so. When we came within five feet of the wall, I heard a low rumbling. I bit my lip. The door suddenly slid heavily to one side to reveal a dark, narrow staircase leading downward. Jak glanced at me once then disappeared into the gloomy passageway. I followed reluctantly, both hands trailing along the walls on either side of me, which let me know whether or not I was about to smack into a wall or something. But then I saw a light ahead, and a few more steps downward led us to it. There was a second door, smaller and of metal, with two flickering wall sconces on either side. It opened silently as we approached. My heart picked up, and doubt about Jak was starting to rise in the back of my mind. After all, he was wanted. He had been in prison. What for, though? There was so much I didn't not know about the boy that I probably should have. Daxter seemed at ease, though, so I tried to reassure myself. Oh God! What if he was in on it too!

I was silent (and may have been shaking a little bit) as Jak led me into a small room. Papers and photographs were posted all over the walls, lit up by the soft golden glow of a fire that crackled over to the right. To the left was a furnace that warmed me from where I stood. Jak walked to the center of the room, toward a man that I hadn't noticed until just now. He stood behind a desk with papers scattered all over. He was young, just about the same age as Jak or me, perhaps a year or two older. He had dark red hair that were pushed back in dread locks, wore a skin-tight armor suit (which wasn't bad… he had a nice body, I'm not lying), and a hard face that told me he'd been through a lot. But what scared me about him was that he had those same strange blue-ish tattoos on his face an ears that Erol did. Come to think of it, all of the Krimzon Guard members did too, under all that armor. I focused on not hyperventilating as the two men exchanged hushed words. Then the man nodded and gave me a guarded look. I was a bit jumpy when Jak returned to me.

"Torn has agreed to let you sleep in his quarters," he said, then paused and lowered his voice before continuing. "He's not the kind of guy to mess around with, so don't bother him." He gave me a very small grin. It wasn't much, but hell. It was a start. Oh, hang on! I didn't want to sleep in some creep's bed! Those were my thoughts exact when I turned on him with, "You said we were going to the Pumping Station!" I scowled at him, but his little 'grin' didn't vanish. Actually, I could swear I saw it spread a little.

Jak stepped out the door, while little Assfuzz on his shoulder waved goodbye. "No. 'We' never included you."

"See ya, toots," chirped Daxter. Then they turned and left me just starig at the door until I heard something move behind me. I whirled around, eyes huge. 'Torn' was leaning against the front of his desk, arms folded. It took all my strength to not look as scared as I felt. "Hi," was all I could say. I smiled sheepishly. He didn't smile back. Torn unfolded his arms and pointed one long finger to my left, where a small wooden door was half-hidden among the shadows in the corner of the room. "It's that way." His voice was quiet and raspy. Which made him all the more creepy. For a second I was confused, but then I remembered what Jak had said. I nodded and just about ran to the door and slipped into the small bedroom to which it led. There was a sink and a shower in one corner, and a small bed in the other. The walls were white and clean, unlike the rest of the building. I yawned, and realized again how tired I was. I flopped onto the bed and took time in my struggling out of my jacket. My wings stretched out to their full span, and I enjoyed the feeling of relief. I decided not to take off my dress or the body suit beneath it, just in case Torn would walk in. Damn, that would be awkward.

I yawned again, and curled up on the bed, not bothering with the sheets. Within moments I was fast asleep, dreaming of home and lollipops and Charlie the pottymouth Unicorn.


	8. Grounded in the Underground

I awoke in a cold darkness. Though the air was chilly, I didn't feel as cold as I should have been. I noticed then that it was because the blankets and sheets – the ones I could have sworn I'd fallen asleep _on top of_ – where wrapped around me in a rather comfortable cocoon. I reached blindly for the light switch that would turn on a dim wall sconce – the one I flat out _knew_ had been _on_ when I'd fallen asleep – on the wall above the foot of my bed. But when my sightlessly wandering hand touched something small and fuzzy in the thick darkness, I withdrew it hastily. What the hell? Swiftly, I reached around whatever dark mass(es) and flicked on the switch.

I just about peed myself when my eyes adjusted to the soft light of the sconce just enough to make out the outline of Jak, whom was coiled up at the end of the bed. Daxter was a tight little fur ball beside him. Both of them were still asleep, so I made sure I was quiet while catching my breath and rebooting my heart. And in a sudden realization, I understood who'd tucked me into bed and turned off the light, the way Aunty had used to. The only difference was that she hadn't slept on my bed. Oh, my God, that sounded wrong. But even at that thought I allowed myself a smile; maybe he wasn't so bad after all. On second thought, maybe he'd drugged me and taken advantage of me. Or worse, that Torn guy. Hopefully the first likelihood and not the second or third. Yea, I decided on the first likelihood.

Jak had his back propped up against the wall, and his head was hanging forward indolently, green-tinged hair falling around his filthy face. One knee was pulled up to his chest, and the other foot was hanging off the edge of the bed. (If you can't picture it, just imagine a twin bed pressed into the corner of the small rectangular room.) As I looked closer, I saw through the veil of hair that his cheek bared a fresh scratch, along the broad plains of his right cheek bone, probably acquired from his latest mission. Come to think of it, I didn't know what he'd been sent to do last. Hell, I didn't even know what time it was, or even how long I'd been out.

Slowly, quietly, I inched my way off of the bed, biting my lip when the floor creaked under my weight. I crossed the little room in just a few steps and opened the cabinet beneath the old porcelain sink. A couple seconds' worth of rummaging around inside rewarded me with a clean washcloth and some hydrogen peroxide. With a tiny (yet still somehow wicked) grin, I dampened the cloth with the medical compound and tiptoed back to the sleeping Jak. Timidly, I settled cross-legged in front of/beside him on the bed. My grin fading to fascination and slight curiosity, I reached up and brushed the hair from his peacefully closed eyes. He was snoring lightly, and I was grateful that he was nowhere near consciousness. Then again… knowing hydrogen peroxide…

I bunched up the washcloth and gently began to dab at the flesh wound. The medical solution started to fizz into the shallow cut and I knew it was fighting off bacteria among other potential infections. By now, his face should have been stinging. But still, he did not awake. Frowning, I folded over the washcloth and soaked more peroxide into the fabric.

But as I screwed the cap back onto the bottle, a hand shot out and caught my wrist, making me gasp and drop the bottle. It fell to the floor and the sound of it woke Daxter, who raised his head, mumbled a few unintelligible words, and fell back asleep. I swear my heart skipped a beat, and my breath came fast as I looked up. Jak's icy blue eyes were filled with a mixture of confusion and immediate defense and I fought back a shiver when they met mine; his face was summed up basically into a snarl. He almost looked feral.

"What the hell are you doing?" Jak growled, tightening his grasp on my wrist. I bit my lip and tried to collect my thoughts, ignoring the small pain he was causing my hand.

"Doing your make-up. Now shut up and hold still." My face was forced into a nonchalant expression, with a side of annoyance, as was my voice. But my frightened eyes apparently didn't agree, because his own expression seemed to soften. Slightly. Even then, he scared me. Just something about the ever-present anger in his harsh eyes.

I was quiet for a second. Then I rolled my eyes and jerked my wrist free from his grasp. "Hold still," I repeated more calmly now, trying (but failing) to be blasé. Instead I looked probably as tired as I felt, though I'd spent the whole night in Neverland with a talking unicorn. Jak stared at me intensely but didn't protest, and I hesitantly continued to cleaning his flesh wound, resisting the overwhelming urge to runaway from his steady gaze. I noticed that he flinched when the peroxide touched the wound again. It was small, but I saw it clear and distinct.

"Not so tough now, huh?" I said absently, grinning halfheartedly while dabbing tenderly at his face. He snorted but didn't answer. Meeting his eyes for a split second, I breathed cool air on the peroxide, which I knew would take the stinging away. "There."

He was leaning toward me, and o ur faces were all of two inches apart. I shifted on the bed, smiling softly. I'd done this before, to clueless boys who were in way over their heads. It was always fun to screw with their minds. I placed my hands on his chest…

…And pushed him back. I stood up and grabbed my jacket, which was hanging on one of the bedposts, and put it on. I snatched my tie-dye bag on my way out, and just before I shut the door, I turned and said, "You're welcome."

In the main room, Torn was at his usual spot, filing through papers and whatnot. I flopped onto the floor by the door with my back against the wall. He hadn't seem to have noticed me yet.

"Do you ever sleep?" I asked around a yawn.

He looked up from his paperwork at me, then at the desk clock. "It's six thirty-two ."

"AM?"

He laughed once, but with no humor. "There's no time for sleep when you're leading a rebellion."

"You're the leader of the Underground?" I asked before my mind could really process the sudden _click_ that put what Sig had said together with what this place looked like now.

"The Shadow runs this joint. I'm just his movement commander." The title caught in my mind, and my mouth acted on its own again.

"Are you a Krimzon Guard?" I asked. Huh. Everything I'd said to the guy so far had been a question. I was being very… questioney… lately. I wanted to take back the question, as I saw that he was quiet for a second, looking down at his work again. When he answered me, his _hoarse_ voice was thoughtful, as if he was choosing his words carefully.

"I was a second level commanding officer after two years in the main Guard," he said quietly. "But when I was assigned to carry out the execution an innocent family, I resigned. That's not necessarily acceptable – a taboo for anyone who wants himself and family to remain peacefully in Haven. The bastards have been after me ever since."

"I'm sorry." I frowned sympathetically his way, but he wasn't looking at me. Torn shrugged.

"I think of it as a good thing." I waited for him to talk further but he didn't continue. Instead I heard the static feed of a hand radio beside the clock. Torn paused, glanced at me, then brought the radio to his ear. "Report."

A female's voice came through the speaker. "It's bad. There's too many Metal Heads. We've ordered a retreat."

Torn scowled into the microphone. "Any casualties, Ashelin?"

"No," said the woman. "But Vin has failed to check in."

He nodded as if she were standing just before him. "I'll launch a rescue party."

"Copy."

Torn put the radio back on the desk. I was just about to ask about the rescue party when he gave me an order. "Go wake up Jak."

I nodded wordlessly, rotated lazily on my butt, and slammed a fist twice against the wood of the door. In a couple seconds, it opened and Jak entered the room, followed by a groggy-looking Daxter, whose fur stuck up in random directions. I smiled at them, pretending like that awkward wake-up scene was but a surreal memory.

Torn folded his arms, but was hopefully oblivious to the hateful rivalry, the strange tension between the two of us as he walked around his desk and put on his business face. "One of the Baron's mining operations is under attack by the Metal Heads."

"That's not _our_ problem," interrupted Jak, who narrowed his eyes at him.

"It is our problem when the foreman's one of the Underground's best informants," Torn retorted, matching Jak's nasty attitude. "His name's Vin and he's just valuable enough to save. Find the warp gate at the power station and use it to travel to the strip mine so you can rescue Vin's pathetic hide" I took a step away, incase Jak decided it was a nice time to launch him

"Hey! Tattooed Wonder, why do we get all the crappy missions?" Daxter butt in, scowling stubbornly.

"Because. I. Don't. Like. You!" His words were clipped as he came to eye-level with Assfuzz before he flicked him off of the desktop and sent him flailing to the floor.

"Fair enough," mumbled the little animal, while I stifled a laugh.

Torn continued, crossing his arms again. "Whatever deal the baron made with the metal heads, the city's eco is almost gone, and his time is running out. If we don't get the kid back on the throne soon, there may not be a city left to defend."

I left my bag in the room and slowly walked up the entrance staircase that led above ground as the two men exchanged words, probably locations and stuff. When the huge wall/door/thingie slid aside to let dawning light pour onto my face, I breathed in the fresh air that was impossible to get in the stuffed, cramped Underground hideout, and stepped back into Haven City. I wanted so much to take off and stretch out my sore wings, but then Jak's cold voice came from behind me.

"You have to stay here while we…" He began, but his sentence trailed off when I started shaking my head.

"Okay, first off," I began, getting ready to go off on a little mini rant. "I'm not a total idiot. I can take care of myself." Though he looked doubtful (and definitely had at least one good reason that said otherwise) I continued. "And second, I need space. I can't be cramped up in that tiny room with some creep I don't know if I can trust. That's not me. I need to be up there"-I jabbed one finger up into the brightening indigo sky-"where I know I'm safe."

Jak stopped me. "That's just it," he said. He stepped forward and grabbed my shoulders, shaking me gently. "I can't trust you to be safe here. _Nowhere is safe._"

I shrugged out of his hold, glaring. "You're paranoid."

Right then, Torn cam through the door and looked at both of us. He didn't say anything.

Jak hopped onto the unclaimed Zoomer that was parked close by. "Just don't do anything stupid." Okay, he'd said that how many times now? Ugh, he was really pissing me off. I watched, eyes narrowed, as he hitched the vehicle into gear and tore around the corner and out of view.

I got set to take off and follow him, starting to take off my jacket, but Torn caught my arm. "Come inside. Now." I looked up at him. He looked confused by my actions when it looked like I had started to take off my clothes. Haha. In his dreams. He hadn't seen my wings yet, I realized. He didn't even know about them. Well, maybe it was time he found out, I thought deviously as he hauled me back toward the hideout.

I jerked my hand free and he stopped to give me a look that said clearly _What the hell? _Holding his gaze, I stepped back out into the street. Face cold as stone, I ripped off my jacket and slowly (enjoying the overly dramatic moment) unfurled my huge dove-white wings, stretching them to their full fourteen-foot span. Torn looked utterly shocked. Good. It should take him a few seconds to collect himself, but by then I would be gone.

"Don't do anything stupid," I said, smirking at the cliché. Then when Torn started toward me, I crouched down, much like Jak had when I watched him commandeer a Zoomer. Then I launched myself upward just before he reached me, and with a few powerful beats of my wings, I was rising up out of the mess of building tops.

I heard Torn's fleeting call up to me. "Get back here! _They'll find you!_" I ignored him. Later, I knew I would regret doing so. I rose further into the inviting scarlet sky, my light blue halter top dress rippling gently around me in the wind, and curly golden blond hair whipping around my face. Oh, it felt so good.


	9. To Hell

**First off, before I continue, I want to give thanks to all my readers. You are wonderful supporters!  
****Special thanks to: **_DJ-Joshie, __Kisa-Amane, __Th3WorldOnIc3__, SkaleFlapper15__, EcoSeeker247__, Tala Medori__, maskedvengence__, DLC GIRL, LeaOrganicSolo, _**and especially **_Fishyicon _**for your help!  
Love you guys!**

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* * *

****Chapter #9 - To Hell**

Jak wasn't hard to find once I was high enough. As my eyes scanned the busy streets, I noticed a distinctive movement that zipped past everything else. And, of course, Krimzon Guards were on high alert. My God, the boy had no patience. I rolled my eyes; typical teenage rebels. I followed, and though I was way high up and probably looked like a tiny dot from below, kept a careful eye on him. Eventually, he lost the po-pos and took to the raised walkway in the Industrial Zone despite the fact that he was still rushing through the throngs of pedestrians on a Zoomer. With me watching inconspicuously, Jak finally slowed by an unlabeled building front and ditched his vehicle. He disappeared through a door.

This isn't a strip mine as far as I can see, I noted. But I couldn't let him escape my sight.

I sucked in a breath and tucked my wings tight against my back. Like a dead weight, I fell out of the sky in a joyous rush. Ah, the freedom! I closed my eyes and savored the brilliant thrill.

And maybe forty or fifty feet before splatting like a bug on the face of the earth, I snapped open my wings. They caught the air willingly and lowered a giddy Noel gently to the ground.

My jacket was back at the hideout where I'd left Torn (he was probably still gawking into the sky) and so I'd have to go on disclosed. I settled myself in a shadowy crevice in the opposite wall and watched for the door to open again. It never did. _What's taking him so long?_ Overly curious, I left my hiding place and slipped across the catwalk thingy and through the door.

The room inside was small. Well it was actually huge, with wires going everywhere and generators and whatnot. But the walkway platform led me into the middle of it all and the actual walk space in the center of a circle of control panels was tiny. The only other path had a strange circular thingie which bore several strange markings. The air inside seemed to ripple intensely, as if it could step someone through time and space. Another glance around told me no one else was in the room. Where had Jak gone? I stepped further out into the room. With a sudden jolt I realized this must be the power station Torn had been talking about. But what was a warp gate? My eyes immediately fell on that thingie across the room. With slow, cautious steps, I approached it. And as I neared it, I felt a pull toward it, as if it were a… a… a mutant bird girl magnet (ha). With each step, the tugging grew stronger. When I was just a couple feet away, I could hear noises coming from the warp gate. They were strange and unfamiliar, but I swallowed my fear and slowly lifted a hand. Biting my lip, I reached out with that hand to touch that unstable, waving air. And as soon as I did, my whole body was jerked forward. I squeezed my eyes shut and bit back a scream of terror.

I hit something, hit it hard. Breathing heavily, I risked a peek and opened one eye. I was on my belly, sprawled out on compact dirt. My palms were scraped and caked in filth, but I didn't mind. They would heal. Blinking bemusedly, I realized this must be the Strip Mine. Sucked air back into my lungs and pulled myself back onto my feet. Jak was out of sight, and nothing was moving. There were little dark lumps of… _Hang on_. As I looked closer, I saw that they were no lumps, but some sort of creature. They were nasty-looking, mean and vicious, and most of them resembled scorpions. Was this Haven City's version of animals? I thanked whoever killed them that they were dead, wondering absently if it had been Jak's doing. I walked around one of the huge mounds of dirt that were scattered around the area. Then a few larger 'lumps' came into view and I backpedaled on the spot, choking on my breath. These things must be the Metal Heads! These things were bigger than me! On instinct, I took to the air – just incase one of them wasn't quite dead yet.

Then I saw him. Jak was in the midst of a huge one-vs.-a hell of a lot battle (not including Daxter, 'cause he seemed to be hiding in the pouch that hung at Jak's waist) and it looked like he was winning. Every monster that attacked was sent back flying. They were coming in from all directions, but not one managed to touch him. I smacked down the thought of helping him. He'd probably get all puffed up and pissed off and tell me he'd had it. So instead, I decided to go ahead and ensue to the main objective of the whole task: save that Vin guy.

I looked around for some place that seemed like a reasonable hidey-hole. I first thought about looking for an actual hole in a wall someplace, but then I noticed a line of buildings that ran along the edge of the cliff that bordered the whole northern side of the strip mine. All the doors looked broken and overrun. All except for one. That looked promising…

I swooped downward and gathered speed, leaving Jak and his raging fight behind.

I felt his chilling eyes catch on me for a split second, but I didn't look down. Instead I was staring at what looked like a third type of what I was pretty sure were Metal Heads. There were two of them. They were airborne, and reminded me vaguely of wasps, despite the fact that they were about as big as me.

I made a face at them, hoping I looked disgusted and not frightened. Suddenly something purple and flaming whizzed by, just missing my right wing. And at the same moment it passed, though it hadn't touched me, two things happened at once. The necklace Erol had given me before I'd ran out of the Palace screaming bloody murder started to tingle, even burn at my skin. And sudden pain sparked in the midst of my mind. The pain was familiar, unique, and vaguely agonizing. I couldn't remember where I'd felt it before…

Setting that though aside, I brought my attention back to the Metal Heads, who were setting up to hurl more flaming balls of purple stuff. Avoiding the paths of the mind-wrenching projectiles, I charged the two of them head on, letting out a piercing scream. Not taking time to notice how foolishly bold I was being, I snatched the tail of the closest one I could get my hands on and swung it around and round in the air twice before releasing it and letting it knock it's buddy out of the air.

"Whoo!" I punched my fist into the air, grinning excitedly. But when one of them started toward me again, I squeaked and made haste toward the door that would hopefully take me to Vin and safety.

I was low enough to the ground that when I swoop lunged downward, I could snatch a nicely sized rock from one of the mounds before pulling straight up. With I don't know how many Metal Heads on my tail, I darted toward that door and took aim. My eyes took in quite a few things at once right then. I saw a warp gate a few yards away from the door. I also saw that Jak was farther than before, but still warding of those vile monsters. In fact, he was very close. But I was gathering speed, and once I was maybe ten feet from the door, I pitched the rock ahead of me, at the button beside the door that would open it.

The stone hit its mark, and just before I smashed into it, the metal airlock door swooshed open. However, as soon as it did, I backpedaled. _Oh, pooey!_

The room was a lot smaller than I had assumed. In fact it was so small I only had a fraction of a split second to raise my arms out in front of me right before I crashed head-on into the opposite wall. Sure, it hurt like hell, but my hyperawareness of the pursuing Metal Heads kept me way too conscious. Even when I knew far too well that they were closing in fast, and now that I'd opened it, I didn't know how to close the door. Yay for impulsive planning!

So I just sat there, frozen, watching the stupid monsters approach rapidly. Where was Jak? I hated to admit it, but I needed him. Right there and then.

I was just sucking in breath to give my best girl scream as the leading earth-bound Medal Head leaped forward toward the gaping door, but something moved suddenly in my peripheral vision. Apparently a button was pressed, or punched, and just as the monster crossed the line between indoors and out, the door slammed shut, squashing it's torso in half. The upper half – claws still extended and menacing teeth still bared – skidded to a halt just before me. I clasped a hand over my mouth, wanting to scream, but not able to. Damn it, why did I have to see that? Ignoring the blood that was pooling around the mutilated corpse – and that strange throbbing that was making itself comfy in the back of my head – and the banging and scratching and grunting of the outside Metal Heads, I took a deep breath and tried to stand up. I almost fell over, and on top of the dead Metal Head, but something caught my arm and hauled me back up. I jumped back so fast that I hit my back and bonked my head on the other wall. Standing across from me was a short man. He was shaking, and casting nervous glances between me and the corpse at my feet. His hair was silvery white and stuck up in random places, like he'd come out of a huge stand-in wind tunnel. His eyes were hidden behind (very unattractive) goggles. I noticed that he also apparently didn't know how to dress himself very well. But hell, if it wasn't for this guy, I'd be a splatter on the wall and a couple feathers on the ground.

He spoke first.

"Wh-what are you?" He blurted. I rolled my eyes. Oh, great. Now I'm a what and not a who._ He just called me an it._

Not wanting to explain, I muttered half to myself, "Your guardian angel. And I'm assuming you're Vin."

I could tell that he was about to come back with something lame, but I cut him off by making a show of observing the dead Metal Head. I crouched down so I could get a closer look. The liquid oozing from the body was…

"It's blood is purple!" I exclaimed.

Vin looked at me like I was stupid. "Metal Heads down have blood. They run on Dark Eco…. Don't touch it!" He added the last part frantically when I outstretched a hand to feel it the indigo-tinted substance. The sudden exclamation made me jump backward again. He took a deep breath. "This kind of eco is the most dangerous of them all. It can do horrible things, if not kill, to whoever allows it into or on their body. It often leads to insanity."

I stared at him, mouth hanging down to the floor. "What is _eco_?"

Well, for one thing, that crystal in your necklace is Light Eco. It can protect anyone who inhabits its power. Of course, very few people can channel Dark or Light Eco's power."

I opened my mouth to say that he hadn't really answered my question when I noticed that that clawing and scrabbling outside the door had stopped. I looked at Vin. He nodded.

Suddenly something pounded loudly at the door, which made both of us jump back in a start.

"Hey! Anyone in there?" Jak's rough voice brightened my day.

"Open the door," I commanded Vin. He shook his head ridiculously.

"The Metal Heads might have developed voice-reflecting technology that could potentially and cleverly ruse us out of our hiding place!" He looked like he might have a nervous breakdown.

I rolled my eyes. "Give it a rest, will you? He's here to save you."

He slowly nodded and pressed a button on one of the control panels that surrounded us. The door swooshed open and I swear I could tackle-and-hug Jak when I saw him. He gave me one long, hard look. When I broke his death stare and fidgeted, he turned his gaze to Vin. "You Vin? We need to get out of here. There's a warp gate right around the corner."

Without another word, he grabbed my wrist and pulled me aside while Vin slowly emerged from his hidey hole. As if hell hounds were chasing him, he sprinted to the warp gate and literally dove through.

Jak's icy eyes searched my face for a while. Then he said, "You shouldn't have come. It's dangerous out here."

I huffed exasperatedly. "Calm down, Mother. Apparently everwhere is dangerous."

He narrowed his eyes. "It is, and you'll get hurt."

"Why do you care? I bet I'm just as capable as taking on a Metal Head as you are." Ha. I doubted it myself.

He sighed, but he didn't say anything. Instead he turned, still holding my wrist painfully, and hauled me toward the warp gate. "Go ahead. I'm right behind you."

I nodded and took a deep breath, giving the gate a long look. Finally, I jumped through and let its weird pull take me through. I was more prepared this time, and when I landed on the other side back at the power station, I was able to land on my feet, though I stumbled quite a ways. I heard Jak follow me through. Vin was pressing buttons and doing some techno geek stuff with some of the control panels that circled the platform. He didn't look at us when we walked up, but he did talk first.

"Ey, I want to thank you guys for saving my butt out there at the strip mine."

Daxter, who'd hopped out of his little pouch, tried to speak up, but I interrupted him with, "Well, I thought it was a fun task."

Jak shook his head, but I saw the slightest hint of amusement in his eyes.

Daxter tried again, but this time he screeched like a mad man. Er, mad rat. "AHH!" He shouted. "A Metal Head behind you!"

I stifled a sudden bubble of laughter as Vin shrieked and whipped around in search for an invisible enemy. He fell to the ground muttering unfinished sentences.

Daxter kept his cool, looking pleased with himself. "Just kidding." He snapper a little fuzzy finger and pointed at Vin. "Nice reaction time, though."

Vin pulled himself up, and believe me – his face was priceless! "Not. Funny!" He looked at Jak, who'd turned his grin away in an unsuccessful attempt to hide it. I couldn't help but giggle a little. Vin continued, turning back to his monitors and what not. "Those Metal Heads have been attacking our mining operations, and we're runnin' outta eco! Eco power keeps the shield walls up, and if the shield drops," he looked over his shoulder at us. "Well, we can all kiss our butts – goodbye!"

Jak turned away so none of us could see his face, but I could hear the smile in his voice when he said, "I've got a few surprises for those Metal Heads."

"You've got to keep the shield walls up until the Shadow figures out what to do," said Vin quickly. "My readings show a drop in eco flow at the Drill Platform. Probably some Metal Head eggs suckin' away power! So use the warp gate to go to the Drill Platform and destroy every Metal Head egg you can find."

I looked at Jak hopefully, who shook his head. He looked at Vin. "Make sure this girl here doesn't follow me. Send her back to Torn."

I sighed and folded my arms. 'This girl.' Yuck. "I have a name, you know!"

Jak half-turned toward me. "Not that I know of." Then he and Daxter vanished through the warp gate. Ohmygosh! He was right… I'd never told him my name. Oh, well.

I tried to make a run for the warp gate, but Vin stepped in my way. "No sir-y! You heard what he said."

I made a dramatic 'ugh' sound and turned around. "Tell Jak when he gets back that he'll have to come find me if he wants to stop being a stubborn ass and talk to me. I'm not going back to the hideout." With that final statement, I left. Outside, the sun was almost in the middle of the sky, and there was only a slight breeze. Perfect weather for flying. With a running start, I jumped up and caught the air, taking to it and welcoming it openly.

I rose higher and higher, wanting to let the wind blow away my worries and the warm sunlight scare away my fears.

Jak pretty much hated me, Erol wants me for yucky reasons, and Torn probably thought I was a freak. Oh well. I was in the blue depths of the sky, and at that moment, that was all that mattered. I didn't care if I'd had a gazillion things to worry about, as long as I knew I could feel the freedom of the sky.

I closed my eyes and let the wind carress my face. Please, pardon my poetic crap. It's just the way flight makes me feel. Don't judge me.

I pulled a back loop, routinely out of habit. I spread my arms out wide as if I were a member of the Blue Angels.

"_Whoooo!_" I shouted into the empty air, opening my eyes again. And it was then that I noticed it wasn't just empty air. In fact, it was very full air indeed.

My little 'whoo!' had turned into a shriek of surprise as I just barely avoided being a smudge on a side of the Palace. How had I gotten so close? There was a bit of a wind up here. Or perhaps it was my subconscious willing me toward the ass-whupping of Erol.

Oh, God. The simple mental reference had me shivering. Erol scared the crap out of me! But I was curious. I was curious about… well, hell. I didn't even know what I was curious about. You know when you get curious about something and it's gnawing at the back of your mind until you figure it out? Well, ever since I'd dove off the Palace balcony, I'd been vaguely wanting to return just to explore it. I swear, even considering the Burj Dubai building, this was the biggest, freaking hugest structure I'd ever been in/seen in my life. And trust me, I've been places. And when curiosity digs itself into your brain, it sucks like hell. So I righted myself and came to a gentle landing there a few feet from the balcony edge for a moment, staring. Just staring…

Then the internal debate was abruptly broken by what would choose for me. Everything happened in such a sudden rush that I found it hard to keep up with it all.

I remembered there was a Voice coming from behind me. "Ah… little Noel," it purred.

I tried to turn around, but before I could, there was an unbearable pain that stabbed through both wings, right by the bases. They were immobilized, I realized. I couldn't fly away. I struggled frantically and sucked in air to scream, but my throat closed up with all the pain. A long arm snaked around me from behind, closing around my neck. And at that same moment, there I felt a small pain in the side of my neck as I thrashed around against the awfully tight hold.

As I continued to flail, I felt the pain in my neck fade into numbness. That numbness started to spread until it was hard for me to breathe. My struggles lessened. My eyelids grew heavy. My limbs felt like thousand-pound weights. The arms that had been restraining me were suddenly holding me upright. And when my legs flat out gave in, I was scooped up like a small child. I could hardly open my eyes, and what I did see was blurry; I got a brief glance of a familiar face, though too distorted for me to recognize it. I gave one last attempt to flee. Of course it came off as a vague jerk of my body, but hell, it was something. I heard a chilling laugh. I knew it was close, but it sounded distant, like I was hearing it from the end of a tunnel.

"I'm going to take you through Hell," whispered the Voice.

And then I blacked out.


	10. Nobody Can

**Chapter #10 – Nobody Can**

"Whew!" Dax exclaimed as he and Jak reentered the power station. "Boy that was a piece of cake! I handled those things with a flick of my paw." He puffed up, looking proud of himself.

Jak rolled his eyes but smiled. Of course he'd been the one to destroy all those Metal Head spawns and kill those who guarded them while Daxter had taken to the pouch at his waist like the coward he was. Good ol' Dax.. He'd never change.  
Vin had turned around from his work as soon as the little ottsel had spoken. He looked frantic and relieved all at the same time. "Jak!" He stuttered, looking pale as hell as he stumbled over to them.

Daxter scrambled up onto his usual spot on the shoulder plate Jak wore for him. "What's got you in a knot, Bzzzt Boy?"

"The winged girl. She took off. She said she wasn't going back to the hideout." Vin looked out of breath, like he'd been worrying about it for hours. Jak wondered how long he'd been out there. Probably hours. When Vin's words actually got through to him, he shrugged. She was stubborn. But she could take care of herself.

"No need to worry. She'll be alright," he assured Vin, with more certainty that he felt. Vin simply gave him a doubtful look, then nodded and returned to his work. Jak exchanged glances with his fuzzy friend, shrugged again, and left the room. Outside, the sun was nearing the Western horizon, casting the indigo shadows of the clouds across the sky. There was no sign of the girl (damn it, what was her name?) in the air or anywhere on the ground near him. Jak sighed, trying to push that nagging feeling to the back of his conscience. His gaze wandered from empty air to the Palace, as did his thoughts. Where was that insane bastard, Erol right now? What was he doing?

_**switch;;**_

I was brought back to awareness through agonizing pain and despair. It was silent, as far as I could tell. I was dizzy, and could hardly open his eyes. My head hurt; my wrists hurt; my legs hurt. My wings were the worst of them all. My breath was slow but coming heavily. And in one huge effort, I took a deep breath, held it, and tried to move my wings. The effort ended in a spasm of screaming, which turned into a coughing fit, which resulted in blood trickling down from the corner of my mouth. _Ah, hell_. I quickly gave up on that idea. By now, my eyes had managed to somewhat clear and resolve. I was in a small, metal room. With a sickened jolt, I realized that it reminded me of the Prison Fortress. But I knew right a way that I was definitely still in the Palace – my amazing birdie-girl altitude senses told me so. Mh-hm. In fact, I recognized this room was a disused storage room that I had seen in my tour of the Palace. So maybe I could get out of this while I had the chance. Well, first things first, I started taking inventory of my wounds.

And when I finally looked down at myself, my thoughts stopped dead. I was chained up, fastened tightly to a wall. Each arm and leg were spread equally apart, wrists and ankles suspended in thick metal shackles. If I strained, I could just barely touch the floor with a toe. Otherwise I was basically hanging by my wrists.

I pulled my attention back to my poor wings. At first I thought the two iron bars around my chest were just another restraint holding me to the wall, but when I looked ove my shoulder, I gasped in agony. And I couldn't help but start to cry. The double bars swerved around to bound my wings together, cramped tightly and painfully against my back. But that wasn't the extent of it. Long, thick spikes jabbed out from each bar o either side of my wings. And since my wings were folded in on themselves, the spikes skewered each one through twice – once through the mid section, and once through the bases (which is my weakest spot of all) – and I guessed that they met and clasped together in an impossible lock. My white feathers were stained scarlet. My wrists and ankles had blood streaming from them as well. They, too, had spikes that gnawed at my wrists. These were small and very thin, which made it all the worse when they pierced the flesh like needles. Overall, I felt like crap.

I let my head droop for a couple of moments as I tried to recollect my scattered mind. How was I going to get out of this? My mind scrambled about maniacally.

Right then I heard the almost silent whoosh of the airlock door as it slid open. There was so much light pouring through it into the dark room, that even if I squinted, I could only just make out the silhouette that stood there. At first, it was a spark of hope that washed through me. Jak? My lips moved, but no sound came.

Oh, no. Didn't I wish?

As the man sauntered forward, and as my vision slowly regained its clarity, his features became clearer and more distinct. That hope I was talking about a minute ago turned into cold fear.

"Hello, little Noel," he jeered. His Voice was strangely familiar, but I couldn't put my finger on it, what with all the drugs in my blood and all the pain I felt distorting my judgment and thought and all. I could hear boots clanking heavily across the metallic floor as he approached. And as he grew nearer and nearer, I immediately ascertained that he had to be a Krimzon Guard. Just by the way he was built, perhaps; tall, muscular, possibly handsome. The man stopped a few inches away from my face, and I forced myself to actually stare him straight in the eyes. But I had a right to be afraid. I should have only expected him.

Erol.

_**switch;;**_

"She took off after you hours ago," explained Torn, sounding confused.

Jak cursed under his breath. "Contact me if she turns up." He put the hand radio back in his pouch and continued to rocket through the streets toward the only other person that girl had seemed to trust: Sig. He hadn't seen him since they'd gone out to the Pumping Station together to bust some Metal Head ass, but Jak knew where to find him.

Outside the Hip Hog, Jak hopped off his Zoomer and looked into the sky again. She wasn't there. He knew he wouldn't be able to go on with his missions to throw down the Praxis until he found her. With a sudden wave of guilt, he realized that he kind of… sort of… wanted her by his side. Sort of. Getting there. Jak shuddered, thoroughly convinced that he'd lost every bit of his mind, and walked through the door. Thankfully, Sig was there at the bar with a mug of beer in his hand.

"Sig," Jak greeted as he walked up and took a seat beside him. Daxter hopped onto the counter and slipped into the shelves that held the endless supply of liquor.  
Sig grinned his husky guy grin. "Hey, Cherries." His gaze flickered to the door as if he was expecting someone else to come in. "Where's Little Cherry?"

Jak frowned. "I was just about to ask you the same… You haven't seen her?"

The Wastelander thought for a second. He took a swig from his mug, then said, "I did see her. She was up in the sky – such a pretty little thing, you know. I saw her headin' to the Palace."

"Oh, shit!" Jak slammed his fist on the countertop and jumped to his feet. Daxter looked at him from where he lay drunken on the floor with bottles scattered about.  
Sig grimaced. "You'd hightail it. She said that Erol guy had done some damn nasty stuff to her." He looked at the ottsel, shaking his head. "I'll take care of Chili Pepper, here."  
Jak had dashed out the door and snatched a vehicle before Sig had even finished.

_**switch;;**_

Erol looked like he had lost every bit of his damn mind. He was laughing, almost hysterically, but quiet and low. I had broken our little staring game when that grin had crept onto his face. I couldn't hold his gaze. His eyes were cold and sparkling with a dark, unspoken thought.

I deliberately turned my face away.

"You are one stubborn young lady," he said, tilting his head to one side. He reached up, and ever so gently, trailed a finger down my cheek. A shudder that had absolutely nothing to do with the temperature shook down my spine.

_You are one creepy dude,_ I thought, hiding my face behind a veil of hair.

My unspoken thought seemed to hang in the air around us. Erol stepped away, but I could see that sick smile on his face.

He continued, ignoring my uncooperative attitude. "Well. Since yesterday – since you so coldly left me – I've been watching for you. For hours, I watched the skies from our balcony." He turned around suddenly and placed his hands on the wall on either side of me, bringing his face so close to mine. His sudden immediacy startled me and I squeaked. "And I'd convinced myself that I'd lost you. But then there you were, standing just feet away, and oblivious to my presence. Such a delightful surprise." My eyes were stinging from all the tears that welled up and spilled down my cheeks. What was he going to do? Erol narrowed his eyes. His lip curled ever so slightly as he reached for something I couldn't see behind his back. "But when I seized you, you resisted me… and then I knew I couldn't have you."

I looked down at him, fearing what might be going on in his sick mind. I squeezed my eyes shut, wanting to scream. I tried hard not to start to bawl my eyes out like the big wimp I was.

His hand, grasping something small in it, reappeared from behind his back as he spoke in a murmur so soft I could have been soothed had I not heard his words. And what he said made me really not want to hear. Nonetheless, Erol had leaned in real close so that he could whisper in my ear and _make_ me hear it. "So if I can't have you," he hissed, "that bastard Jak can't sure as hell can't either. _Nobody can_." He brought the object to my neck, and it took all my will to not react (scream) to the icy touch of the silver blade.

"Wait! You're wrong," I blurted before my mind would catch up with it all. It was the first time I'd spoken since I woke up, and it hurt my chest so bad. I was pretty sure I'd started hyperventilating, so I made a huge effort to calm myself. Erol looked up from his decisive concentration. His auburn eyes were a mixture of sadness and frustration. He didn't say anything, and what I knew I had to say was going to make me want to bleach my tongue, but it was the only rational response I could find to match his insanity. I lifted my head so that I could stare him straight in the face, which, by the way was, like, two freaking inches away. I took several deep breaths before I could say it. Then, with all the emotion I could conjure up, I whispered:

"I do love you."


	11. I'm Here Now

**A/N: **Alright, so one of my reviewers mentioned that I haven't given Naughty Dog or James Patterson any credit for this story. I'll say it here and now: Naughty Dog owns the setting, the majority of the plot, and all characters but Noel and her aunt. And as for James Patterson, Noel is based on that book. BUT, I've actually been thinking for a while that I'm going to change her history to so something more original. And I'll post an update when I find time to do so... Thank you, YOUTHFULwolfie, for pointing that out. **  
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****Chapter #11 – I'm Here Now **

One damned rat after another. They just kept coming. Their colleagues' blood smudged across the floor, splattered on the walls, but their courage willed them onward. Or was it their lack of free will? Or perhaps they all were just plain stupid. _Fools_.

Jak trudged through the Palace corridors, leaving behind nothing but ravaged bodies and their blood pooling together.

The entire time it had taken to reach the Palace, he'd felt that darkness tingling through his body, and with every KG Jak saw it was like a mini explosion of hatred and evil inside of him. He was disgusted. As each second died away, his anger intensified, his thoughts wicked. And he'd lost his mind, in a quite literal way, as soon as he'd stepped into the Palace. This time was like no other, however; he had control of his thoughts, and half control of his body. He'd chosen to side with the darkness inside him rather than fight it. Its sadistic whispers had become all too overwhelming.

The monster had made it to the higher floor levels already, his rage never fading. He followed the unmistakable scent of blood that wafted around in the halls. It wasn't the blood of he Guards that murmured playful whispers in his ears. No. It was her blood. He knew it. It smelled of her. And it smelled delicious.

But Erol was there, too. He could sense his disgusting presence. Dark thoughts. Bloodlust. Desire. A deep growl rumbled in his chest. It was animalistic, and it called out to the one he longed to slaughter. He peered around him through eyes of pure black. They were as dark as the eco that infested his veins, as were his own halting thoughts.

"_I'm here now_," he hissed. His throaty growl echoed eerily on the walls around him. "_Come out... come out and play..._"

Jak abruptly glanced down at the floor by his feet as his senses suddenly told him to. There, half tucked under the toe of his boot, was a white feather. It seemed to glow in the fading light of dusk. Fluffy. Soft. With no hesitation, he bent over and tried to pick it up. It immediately disintegrated to his touch. He watched in fascination as it turned to dust in his claws. His hand stung as he withdrew it and he hissed in surprise. _Ah, shit_! What was this? It couldn't be…

Her body contained Light Eco?

No wonder – that crystal in her necklace should have given it away. He hoped that she still wore the necklace; if it weren't near her body, the Light Eco that flowed in her veins would aggravate in response to his Dark presence; he couldn't touch her in this state. If he even got to close it could kill her in the most painful way imaginable.

Trying to push his thoughts aside and focus on the mission, Jak stalked through the labyrinth that was the never-ending network of hallways. Eventually, the scents lead him to he came to a dead end. It didn't turn off to the side; it didn't lead to any doors. It just simply stopped. Two Guards stood sentry there by the wall in the very end of it, probably looking out for lost intruders like him. They were already aiming their firearms his way, just daring him to come forth. As the monster stared at them, he realized that they _were_ guarding something; his eyes caught sight of a single white feather, caught in the airlock door that had looked so deceivingly like an ordinary wall a second ago. And even from over ten yards away, his dark, keen eyes saw spots of crimson upon its creamy color. Was he too late?

Jak snarled, mad as hell, and started toward the Guards, ignoring the cocking of their guns. He could easily hear their frantic whispers.

"What the hell is it?" Derided the one to the right of the door. The words were spat out in cold hatred and disgust.

"It's that Dark Eco freak," answered the other, his voice grim and yet still of mockery. That did it.

A fresh wave of dark electricity crashed through his body and flew off of him, shattering the glass windows all along the wall to his left. _Dark Eco freak_. That was not in the right thing to say to please him. And for what it's worth, it's best for one to please this creature and not be on his list for slaughter. But it was too late. They'd already pissed him off.

_**switch;;**_

"Prove it," whispered Erol. It had taken him a moment to recover his thoughts. He was so close that I could feel his hot breath on my face, which made it hard for _me_ to think. "Prove to me your love."

"I came back for you," I lied, biting my lip.

He scowled and narrowed his golden eyes. "I'm not convinced."

I took a few deep breaths and kept my face straight. The only thing I could think of to distract him was nasty and beyond consideration... but it was my only chance of getting out of there alive. I wished for a second that he had slit my throat before I'd said anything stupid.

I allowed my eyes to lock with his. And when they did, I poured all the emotion I currently felt into them – the pain, the hate, the fear – and placed over that a mask of pure, passionate desire. Ew. When I decided I looked all lovey-dovey enough, I murmured two words ever so softly.

"Kiss me."

(Yea, I was going to be _drinking_ bleach after this.) And that was all it took. He hesitated only for a split second, studying my face with those probing amber eyes. It seemed like some barrier inside him had finally broken. Like he'd been holding himself back all this time. It definitely seemed like it. Erol closed the distance between us all too willingly. I was literally hanging from the chains on the wall, and my feet were several inches off the ground, but that brought me just eye-level, or in his perspective, lip-level to him.

When his lips touched mine, I could feel him wrap his long arms around me and pull me close. It hurt like hell, as I was still in the restraints, and I gasped against our kiss, but Erol didn't seem to notice. His urgent lips told me of the desire that had been contained inside him; of the deep emotion I made him feel. (Well whoop-dee-friggin'-doo.) I returned his kiss, but only to some extent.

Well this was definitely something to brag about – My first kiss went a little like this: Please, don't kill me! Please, please, don't kill me! Ha. Beat that, 3oh 3!

One hand had slid up to clutch a fistful of my hair; the other held the small of my back, pressing my body as close as possible to his. The pain in my wings was intensified as the added pressure shifted the bars, and I broke the kiss, gasping for air to clear my dizzy head. He didn't try to force his kiss back onto me, but instead he moved his lips downward, kissing my jaw, my neck, my shoulder. And so eventually I wasn't moving, wasn't reacting. I just hung there, head bowed in pain, while Erol invaded my personal bubble (talk about an understatement). Right then the pain was just so unbearable that I felt myself flashing back and forth between reality and unconsciousness. Red and black. Pain and relief.

Suddenly a loud pounding at the door jerked me a little more awake. I looked at the six-inch-thick metal door and ended up staring in surprise when I saw it was dented. Majorly. I blinked the ever-present tears out of my eyes. There was another bang. Another, deeper dent in the door. Then all of a sudden there was a third bang and the door was open. Not open like it should have been – open in a way that it would not close properly. Broken open. The _six-inch-thick_ metal door.

Past the brightness, I saw two bloody heaps on the floor. I recognized them vaguely by the shredded armor as Krimzon Guards. I sucked in a breath, horrified, despite the fact of who they were. Had been. Yea.

Then a figure came into view and stepped over the ravaged corpses. I couldn't recognize it by its features. Hell, I couldn't even understand its profile. It looked like it had two sets of ears, extra long fingers, and was hunched in on itself like it was ready to pounce. It was barbaric.

For some reason when I saw this peculiar silhouette, I felt cold, raw fear shock down my spine. There was also that strange tingling in the back of my head, the one that always surfaced at the most inconvenient times. My necklace had begun to burn the flesh where it touched for some odd reason, and there was a very high-pitched screech I could just vaguely hear, ringing obnoxiously in my ears. I know it sounds strange, but I felt like there was an invisible wall around me, and that something was trying to get through it. Something bad.

Erol whipped round, looking aroused and faintly dazed. In a flash of his hand, he'd drawn his handgun from the holster strapped to his thigh and held it like I always saw badass cops do on TV; feet spread apart, one arm hung at his side while the other aimed the gun on its side. Sexy. Oh, _God _no, this was Erol I was talking about! I snorted silently at myself in disgust, but all that really happened was a sudden intake of breath.

Erol suddenly chuckled as soon as his eyes registered the monster that stood before us. "Well, if it isn't the Eco freak," he jeered nastily.

I saw a jolt of bright indigo electricity dance in the air around the monster, mixing with the liquid darkness that hung there. The violet glow reminded me of something I couldn't quite remember. My eyes were taking their time, but they were adapting. Slowly. I could see him fairly well, though my vision was still blurry from tears, and tinted red with blood. What I saw was gruesome and horrifying: It's flesh was of pale, as if it had been twinned with that of a corpse. Two devilish horns sprouted from gray hair as pale as it's skin. From it's bony fingers, wicked black claw-like nails protruded, glistening darkly with fresh blood. More blood was smeared across the creature's face, creating intricate patterns around eyes of pure black. And although those eyes revealed no pupil in their shadowy depths, I could feel them boring into my face, as if they could see directly into my soul. But there was something about this creature… Just something innocent in an indirect kind of way. It reminded me vaguely of Jak. Then it finally dawned on my pathetic brain; that light was what I had seen so many times on the wall of my prison cell while the boy had been tortured. It _was_ Jak! But what did that mean? How could this monster really be Jak? He wasn't this animalistic. It hurt me to see him like this. I mean, I thought he'd been scary before, but now this was no joke. He looked like a demon.

The creature that was hopefully Jak snarled viciously, looking mean as hell. But still, he stared at me. Like I was his territory, his property. And like Erol had taken me away from him. He reminded me of a lion. A demonic, devilish-looking lion. But then he spoke.

"_Move aside_," he said with finality. With a shock, I realized I could actually hear Jak's voice somewhere in there, though it was reinforced with numerous eerie, whispery hisses. Jak took a few steps forward, but Erol stepped in his way.

"You know, Jak," derided Erol, the nasty smirk practically dripping from his jeering voice. He practically spit out Jak's name. He narrowed his bitter, golden eyes. "You're short on time. And I'm short on patience. So, why don't we end this?" He narrowed his eyes. "Here and now."

Jak finally tore his penetrating gaze from me. And when he faced Erol, his face twisted into an absolute snarl. I was damnright glad that it wasn't me he was pissed at. He responded to Erol's challenge with a hiss rather than words, and I couldn't help but cringe. And in one movement my eyes could not follow, Jak had bounded across the small room and thrown himself at Erol with a chilling growl. The two of them fell to the floor, thrashing about in the blood that pooled at my feet. I could only watch in horror as they threw punch after kick against tooth and claw (and, truly, I am not pro-violence).

Erol had scrambled to his feet before Jak could even pull himself to his knees. I realized that the fight wasn't going as well as Jak had probably hoped. He was losing! I could almost feel the anger coming off of him in waves of liquid night as Erol kicked him back down each time he tried to get up. The spike on the end of his boot left nasty gashes in his side, from which black lifeblood trickled and splattered on the floor. I held back a fresh wave of tears as I saw it mix with my own blood.

But suddenly, the creature let out a deafening roar, and rolled over in time to catch the next kick. In a flash, he twisted Erol's ankle and flipped the commander's whole body around. He hit the ground with a huff. Indigo sparks were flying everywhere; that screeching in my ears had yet to fade. In fact, it had actually intensified and I could hear it more clearly than before. Call me crazy, but my necklace had literally begun to shake. It was glowing, and it was bright. But that invisible wall felt like it was getting weaker, more vulnerable.

Meanwhile, Erol had escaped from Jak's hold and had picked up the blade he'd threatened me with. And instead of holding it ready for combat, he suddenly pulled me close and brought it to my neck. Again. In the instant our eyes met, I saw victory and triumph. But I may have gone crazy, because I also saw an apology hidden in his amber depths. I tried to struggle but all I could pull off was a hopeless twitch here and a jerk and there. Erol's hold on my waist was painful and tight.

Jak was on his feet in an impossible record time. He looked like he was about to go insane – and that was not an understatement. Violet sparks fizzled in his hands and in the air around him. A look of pure shock crossed his face, but was immediately replaced by inconceivable fury and rage. A wicked growl rumbled maliciously deep in his chest. The sparks surrounding him surged violently, filling the small room with blinding purple flashes of electricity. One of those intense bolts suddenly lashed out and

At that moment, everything was in slow motion. Two things happened. The glow in my necklace became so bright, and the crystal itself stung my skin. Then it shattered. And with it, that invisible barrier shattered as well, like a glass wall. And as soon as that vanished, well…

My mind shattered, too. As if whatever that necklace had been holding back had finally gotten to me now that it was broken, something dark was clawing at my brain, whispering words of pure evil to it and blocking out all light. Pain, agony, despair, all dug themselves into my head. I felt like a miniature bomb had set off inside it. I swear, it was the worst possible pain imaginable. That faint screeching I'd heard suddenly became my own ear-piercing screams.

Erol had backed away from me, confusion plain on his face when I had suddenly lost every bit of my sane mind. But he backed into Jak, who took the opportunity to grab him and hurl him against the wall to the far right, where he fell to the ground, unconscious. With him out of the way, Jak began taking tentative steps toward me, staring me down with those mysterious dark eyes. By now the screaming had dissolved into sobs and frantic jerks of my body. But as he got close, that searing pain suddenly escalated and I shrieked hysterically. He stopped, looking torn. Jak scowled then, and closed the distance, ignoring my shrieks of terror. I knew I must've looked like hell, 'cause he was gentle as could be for such a fearsome creature as he seized the chain fastened to my right wrist between his teeth, ever so careful not to touch me. It snapped into two with a horrible ripping sound. I was choking on my own breath, unsuccessfully trying to gasp for air, but past the blinding pain, I could see Jak moving on to the other restraints.

I could also see that Erol wasn't unconscious anymore. He had gotten up (though looking like he'd just been locked in a cage with wild dogs) and grabbed his pistol. I didn't actually realize what he was doing until he aimed it our way. There was a look of pure indecision on his face for a moment, then his expression turned hard and he tightened his finger around the trigger. _No… _In a sudden act of instinct, I summoned up what was left of my strength and screamed, "_Jak!_"

But it was too late. My voice was drowned out by the booming crash of gunfire.


	12. Home Sweet Hideout

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A/N: Well, I was gonna post it tomorrow, but hell I figured I've tortured you all long enough :) Well hope you enjoy the twist, cause I've got somethin' big in mind...

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**Chapter #12 – Home Sweet Hideout**

Was that it? Was it all over?

"_Fade …"_

It couldn't be… no, just couldn't be over.

Time itself had stopped… or at least it seemed like it. My life, as they say in those cheesy movies you see on TMC, was flashing before my eyes. But past my mental flashbacks, I could see a small glowing metal projectile slowly gliding through the air. My scream still lingered in the air around us, taunting me as the energy I'd exerted left me motionless and unable to think straight. Confusion set in ultimately. Everything was happening at once, becoming so hard to keep up with, so I just gave up. My busy, conscious thoughts retreated and made way for abstract mind babble. The pain had numbed a little, though that dark threat was practically eating my mind. It felt distant though…

I had been reduced to what pretty much equated to a mindless zombie. My body was a shell, my soul watching everything from a distance.

"_Fade from this body…"_

Oh, geez! What the…

I noticed for the first time that I actually _was_ seeing the whole commotion in a new perspective! Cool…

Hmm… it was as if… it was as if my conscious memories were drifting away from me. I found it hard to concentrate on what was going on around me.

I stood a few feet from Erol, who still held his professional gunman's stance. His bullet was slowly floating away from him, inch by inch. So I watched with a childish curiosity as that bullet neared Jak and the me that was still half-chained to the wall… Damn, I looked terrible! My hair was not so curly and bouncy as it was dull. My face had lost all color. And I discovered that all that color was leaking out of my body through the lacerations those dang restraints had given me, and trailing down the wall and pooled on the floor beneath my dangling feet. Mangled, scarlet-stained feathers floated on the thick surface of that blood pool.

Wow… what a morbid sight… Well, why was I in chains again?

"_Fade from this life…"_

I tilted my head inquisitively and turned my attention back to the stilled bullet. Something was wrong… What was Erol doing again? God, it was so hard to recall. A thick fog had settled over my thoughts. I didn't really care much at the moment, anyways. I thought about leaving the whole scene, about _fading_, like the vague, otherworldly voice in the back of my conscience was instructing me to do. I was forgetting things. Not that I really worried about it anymore. I didn't feel that I belonged anymore…

"_Fade from this world." _

I couldn't tell what was going on. Did it matter? I mean, it wasn't like that guy with the thing in his hand was trying to kill anyone. It would be ridiculous to assume that. I wasn't even sure why that young lady over there looked so horrible. What was with all the blood? Why was she in chains?

Who was she?

Well, if I were her, I'd pick up and get the hell outta there. I watched the little metal thing as it drifted closer and closer to the creepy monsterish-looking guy. The girl didn't even notice. She was unconscious, lifeless. Dead. Hmm… If I were her…

If I were her…

If I were her…

Wait. …Who was I?

With that simple question, came an immediate answer. Memories and flashbacks came rushing back into my head. Pain and happiness swirled gallingly through my conscience. My scream was blood-curdling.

My scream? I had a voice? My eyes shot open. Everything had sped up. I saw the bullet skim Jak's death-colored hair in the same moment he lunged forward, somersaulted, and sprang at Erol. I lost track of the bullet, as my eyes were following each viscous punch Jak threw at Erol's stomach and face. Though what I noticed was that Erol kept trying to peer around Jak's enormous frame, looking horrified. What? Why was he looking at me? Why did he look so guilty? Jak shoved his head onto the linoleum steel floor and sent a punch right into his jaw. The commander's body fell limp, and the struggles ceased. What had he been so shocked about, I wondered. I looked down, seeking what had caused Erol's eyes to seem so… mortified. And of course, there was the bullet. In my stomach. God damn, why did _I _have to be the one with all the freaking injuries?

Christ, the author must hate me.

Anywho, again with all the pain, the lightness in my head, the self-pity, the blah blah blah… Common, Th3WorldOnFir3, this is kinda getting old! I blame you for everything that happens to me! (epic fist-shake toward the sky) Blood was streaming down the front of my dress and adding still to the puddle beneath me. I vaguely noticed a creamy substance that faded in and out within the crimson depths; not really mixed per say, but setting in the kind of way that oil gets along with water. Hmm. Strange. I've never noticed that before… it kinda made my blood glow in a cool way. Oh, dearie me! There I go again, drifting off like a daydreamer. Lifting my heavy eyelids, I was able to focus on Jak once more, who was relentlessly beating the unconscious body of Erol. Oh, my… Erol's own blood was seeping from his cutes and gashes, turning purple under his flesh where vibrant bruises formed. Jak did not stop. Jak needed to stop. Erol didn't deserve to die.

I sucked in a labored breath. Sweat had beaded on my forehead and was trickling down my face. I held that breath for a few seconds, taking the moment to muster enough power. Then I let it all out in the one word that was burned into the front of my brain.  
"Jak…" Barely a whisper.

I was expecting a ginormous, epic yell. But nooooooo… I just _had _to be so weak and pitiful and feeble and—OH MY GOD, I sounded like a small child asking her mommy to protect her from the monster in her closet. Nonetheless, the punches halted, the flying claws sheathed. The frightening throaty growl subsided. He heard. He heard that tiny word, that small voice. There was silence now, other than the soft purr that rolled from deep within his chest, volume rising and falling with the rhythm of his harsh breathing. His back was still turned on me, and hunched over the razed commander. I could see it expanding, contracting, expanding, contracting as he breathed so ruggedly. Slowly – so slowly – he rose. His frame was outlined by the light pouring from the doorway. His head tilted to the side, then turned to the left a bit to where I saw half of his face. For a minute he eyed me, just standing there. In my whole haze of pathetic pitiful stupid despicable ridiculous ludicrous stupid weakness, I took the time to register what a glorious creature this really was. Violet sparks flew from his palms, his chest. Arms of lightning reached in and out of existence, lighting the room for a split second with a gorgeous purple.

Out of nowhere, the creature released a roar (and I swear, I wanted to yell out for Aslan). But then he took a change. He double up, burying his face in his hands with tense grunts. I saw black splotches in the corners of my vision, for a moment I closed my eyes. Part of that was because I was scared to know what was happening. Now with my eyes closed all was silent and peaceful. I wanted to let go of everything, just… fly away. Ha. Not with these wings. I wrenched them open again, and flinched when I saw Jak was close to my face now, blue eyes and color returning to his face. No violet electricity. No growling. He was himself again. Hopefully. He was all blurry. I squinted my eyes and wrinkled my nose at him. He was murmuring things, to himself or me, I wasn't sure.  
"It's gonna be alright," he was saying. His voice was human again. "We're gonna be okay." He almost sounded apologetic. Guilty. Remorseful.

I tried to speak, but I choked on the blood in my throat and mouth. He shushed me. My whole body was numb. I couldn't feel the pain I knew I was supposed to be feeling as he slid the bracelets off of my shredded wrists. I couldn't feel it when he slid the spikes out of my wings. I just remember being lifted in his strong, gentle arms. That's it. Then I fell asleep.

Over the next few seconds, my brain caught blurry images. Images of abnormally bright streetlights, of people flashing by in the evening lowlights. I got a glimpse of a brilliant light above me. It was swinging. Figures loomed over me. I closed my eyes.

When I opened them again, sound returned to my ears, taste returned to my tongue. The taste of blood. At first, the light consumed my whole vision. I blinked once or twice, squeezing my eyes shut real tight before reopening them. The light gave through just a little, but enough for my fried retinas to adjust and recover. The room was spinning. Ugh. My nerve endings were smacking themselves in the face like BAM, WAKE UP! And so returned my e'er present pain. God, I'm gonna have wrinkles at the age of thirty. And stretch marks! Sadface.

(I know, I know. I apologize for dragging all y'all through my despairing pain and pitiful, melodramatic soap opera moments. It'll get better, kids. I promise.) I groaned, frustrated with the difficulty of moving, of propping myself up on my elbows to get a look around. I was back in the Hideout. I was sprawled out on my back across Torn's hexagon desk in the main lobby. All the maps and pens had been carelessly shoved off of it and onto the floor. The surface of it was stained in splotches with a swirl of crimson and strange creamy white. My wings were spread beneath me so I could lay flat. They kind of drooped off the sides of the table and fell there limply. I started to sit all the way up so I could stand up, but a strong pair of hands grabbed my shoulders from behind and nudged me back down.

"Lay down, moron. You're gonna reopen those wounds." Torn's raspy voice warned me at my ear. I cringed, but obeyed. I felt humiliated and guilty; the last time I'd seen him was when he was warning me not to leave. Dang, I should've listened… I started to blubber out an apology but he covered my lips with his hand. "Shut up." I tasted my own blood on his hand… but it was funny… it was sweet and milky, not metallic and salty like blood should taste.

I was silent. He checked my wounds – the hole in my stomach… the four punctures in my wings…. The lacerations in my wrists and ankles… et cetera, et cetera, et cetera.

They'd all been thoroughly medicated with a sticky bluish ooze numbed most of the pain, and bandages had been wrapped all the way around my abdomen several times. Whoo, mummy girl – that's me. Thinner bandages wrapped around my wrists and ankles, and patches covered the wing wounds.

Hmm. I rolled my wrists. Didn't hurt too bad. Okay…. Good. I stretched my ankles. Still in working order… I didn't bother trying my wings. I could barely feel them anymore, and what I did feel from them was a stinging pain.

I caught Torn's eye. "Is Jak okay? And Daxter?"

He said nothing. A shadow moved in my peripheral vision. Jak stepped out of the dark, his face grim, eyes probing mine. Daxter stayed where he was. He was dozing off. I shut my eyes to avoid Jak's harsh glare.

I swear I could still feel them scorching my face. I felt horrible. It was all my fault – those scratches, those bruises on his face, his arms. I opened my eyes again, prepared for his accusing gaze – and flinched. Jak had silently moved over to kneel beside the table, to stare at me five inches away. I expected to see the harsh "you did this" look in his eyes. But it wasn't there. Not a trace of it. Instead I saw…. Worry… Care…. Fear. I stared back at him, simply bewildered. He remained silent. I blinked a couple times and looked at Torn uncomfortably. He was peering inimically at Jak through narrowed eyes. Um... Was I missing something? It was silent for a few minutes. I was confused. Jak met Torn's gaze suddenly, and his eyes narrowed just the same – turned hostile. He stood up. Something sparked between them. The atmosphere became tense. I stared incredulously at the two. What the heck was going on?

I opened my mouth, but Jak looked back down at me before I spoke. The warmth returned to his face. "Krew needs me. I'll be back soon." The tips of his fingers brushed mine ever so lightly. But I felt it. He searched my face for a few more seconds. Then with a final ill-disposed glance at Torn, he snatched the sleepy Dax up by the ears and swept out of the room. My gaze wandered from the staircase Jak had exited through and settled on Torn. He shrugged nonchalantly and grunted.

_**flashback/switch;;**_

Jak whipped around, lip curled slightly in a frustrated snarl. "I'm perfectly fine, now stop riding my ass and fix her!" Hysteria. Desperation. This wasn't Jak.

Torn's aqua eyes flickered. He sighed gruffly. "Just take care of yourself. You're too vital a part in this operation. You can't afford to be looking after the girl at all times." He turned to the feeble, injured girl Jak had carried in minutes ago. She was a dainty little blood-smear on his desk. His medical kit was open beside her. With the irate Jak watching, he began dressing the wounds that flecked her fragile body.

While doing so, he made a strange discovery. Ribbons of a creamy substance were laced throughout the blood that seeped from her cuts. He looked at his hands. They too glistened with the same beige liquid dancing within the vibrancy of the red. Light Eco? He wondered… He looked back at Jak to mention it, ask him if perhaps he'd noticed it since it was on his hands as well. But he was asleep. Out cold. Dead to the world. Torn shook his head and sighed, and returned to work.

In the process of wrapping the clean bandages over the stellate lacerations on her wrists, an eerie tingling sensation overcame his working hands. Torn hadn't noticed it until now; it was crawling up his arms. It made him feel warm. He didn't quite mind it, actually… but then a strong fatigue crashed over him like a tidal wave. Wearily, he shook his head real quick and continued bandaging. It was all he could do to finish the job before he retired to his chair and dozed off.

[His dreams were odd. A timid voice whispered around his thoughts like a soft wind. It was a girl's. It was _the_ girl's. A name danced on the edge of his conscience, but he couldn't grab hold of it. He knew it was hers, teasing him with his newly born curiosity. He need to know more about her. The simple thought of her made him feel… alive. Just alive.]

When he awoke the first thing he did was check the clock behind him. He'd slept for roughly two hours. Jak had slid down the wall to sit. His eyes were closed. Asleep. The girl seemed alright – her injuries were healing up rather quickly. Torn cocked his head to the side as he stared down at her. He decided she was like an angel, sleeping peacefully under his protection. Torn leaned enquiringly over her, his deep cerulean eyes scanning her face for any inkling of awareness.

"You've gotten in some trouble now, haven't you," he murmured to the insentient angel. "You're a foolish girl, you realize that?" His tone was flippant. Torn chuckled, ever so quiet. He took his thumb and gently rubbed a smudge of blood from her pale cheek just below her eye.

"What are you doing?" Perfect. Jak had opened his eyes at the wrong moment. He was eyeing Torn warily. Torn snorted and straightened up, but did not respond. Jak opened his mouth to say something, but his words drifted off, for there was movement on the table between them. She was stirring! Both of the boys dropped the subject; Jak watched from a distance for the moment. Torn scowled, shook his head and leaned his back against the wall, arms folded.

_**realtime/switch;;**_

I was later moved to the bedroom; I was given a makeshift cot a set up few feet from Torn's own bed. It was rather comfy for a rag hammock, I must say. Exhausted overcame me… deep sleep crawled back over my conscience, sending me into little bits and pieces of dreams. Each dream kind of recapped the past few days' awesome adventures. Sometimes I woke up in the dark, only to comfort myself back to sleep. A couple times I woke up and had to bite back my screams so I wouldn't wake the sleeping body that now occupied the other bed. Finally I opened my eyes and couldn't close them again. I was alone in the room again as I lay staring blankly at the ceiling. Sigh… Eventually I became restless and stiffly stood up. I felt like a mummy. My brain was fuzzy 'n all groggy. I groaned for an extended amount of time, thumped my head irately against the wall a few times, and made my grand entrance into the Hideout lobby.

Torn glanced up. His eyes twinkled. "Good evening."


	13. Coming Soon

Yuuup!

**Coming Soon:  
Chapter #13** - Bloody Thoughts  
**Complete** - 0%  
**Latest Date Due: **TBA

Update 3/17/11  
Righto, guys! All finished with that chapter!  
Now... I'll have to wait for spring break  
To write up this one... so much schooness going on!


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